


Come As You Are

by cheshirecat101



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal, Alpha Matthew, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, M/M, Married Couple, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Murder, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Omega Verse, Omega Will, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Hannibal, Reunions, Sexual Content, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-13 05:49:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirecat101/pseuds/cheshirecat101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the young age of 18, Will manages to catch the Chesapeake Ripper. Twenty years later he is happily bonded and married when Hannibal Lecter escapes from prison, returning to him once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Resurrection

**Author's Note:**

> So I promised I wasn't going to write another Omegaverse, and yet here I am. It's addicting, it really is. The title for this fic comes from the Nirvana song by the same title, though I prefer the cover by Yuna which you can find [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0dwfRt8LcI). 
> 
> Friendly reminder that I do commissions, if you're interested, please email me at the email address provided on my profile page. Hope you enjoy!

People asked Will all the time how he had managed to catch the Chesapeake Ripper when he was so young, how he’d survived his encounter with him and come away with not only his life, but the Ripper behind bars. They never liked his answer. Usually because he gave a sarcastic or joking one, playing it off as some big joke or something inconsequential, not something that’d defined his life from a very early age. They would get upset, sometimes even angry, and many would clarify that that wasn’t what they meant, as if his answer would change if they asked him enough times.

The only person he’d ever given a serious answer to was Matthew, when they were lying wrapped up in each other after the first time sharing Will’s heat together, still knotted together and breathing heavily as they waited to get unstuck so they could do it again. He’d asked in such a soft voice, as if that could alleviate the heaviness of the subject, and Will had been so dizzy with love and lust and the scent of sex in the air that he’d actually given an honest answer, the only one he would ever give.

“Because he was in love with me.”

***

“Matthew.” The name was groaned weakly, Will not putting much effort into it because although he needed Matthew to move, he honestly didn’t want him to.

“Mm.” The younger man gave an agreeing hum from where he was plastered on top of Will, his entire—rather fit—body pressing him down into the bed. Will tried to move again and ended up unsuccessful and just tired out, giving up as he let himself relax against the bed once more. Matthew made a pleased noise, wiggling slightly on top of Will to get closer to him, at which point Will could feel his erection pressed up against the back of his thigh.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, trying harder to get out from under the rather cumbersome Alpha. “I have to go to work.”

“Sure you do,” Matthew murmured, his hand sweeping up Will’s side, eventually settling against his hip. He shifted his own hips, lightly rutting against Will, who tried to pull himself out from under him.

“Matthew, I don’t have time for this,” he said, exasperated, as he gave up again. Matthew was just too damn _heavy_ to get out from under, not without help, and Matthew certainly wasn’t giving him any and would probably continue to watch him in amusement. A suspicion that was confirmed as Matthew chuckled, lightly kissing his way down the back of Will’s neck.

“Come on, you’ve got a little time before work,” he said, his voice getting more awake and cunning by the second, proving that his sleepiness had only been an act, as Will had suspected it was. “Enough time for this, at least.”

“No, I don’t. Now, OFF.”

Matthew groaned but reluctantly rolled off of Will, back onto what was supposed to be “his” side of the bed, though he was never there. He had a tendency to entirely wrap himself around Will in his sleep, tangling the two of them together in a way that made it nearly impossible for Will to extricate himself in the morning when he had to go to work. Which he half suspected Matthew did on purpose.

He rose from the bed, stretching nude limbs, still sore from the night before and feeling it today. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with a partner who was as younger than him as Matthew was. He turned to find Matthew admiring him as he stretched, gently stroking himself where he sat on the bed, and the sight was so distracting that he nearly went right back over to him. Matthew smirked and Will came back to his senses, giving him a look because he knew Matthew was purposely trying to goad him back over there and it wasn’t going to happen.

“No,” he said firmly, and picked a pair of Matthew’s sweatpants off the floor, throwing them at him. Matthew dodged them, grinning now, and got up to pursue Will as he went into the bathroom.

“How about a quick shower together?” Matthew asked, and Will turned around to push him back out of the bathroom, shaking his head.

“With you it’s never quick,” he said, staying in the doorway so Matthew couldn’t force his way past, though honestly, if he’d wanted to actually get into the room, he’d be in the room already. Matthew was much stronger than Will, stronger than a lot of other Alphas, actually, but right now they were just playing with each other, just messing around, so Matthew wasn’t going to actually use any real strength, instead letting Will push him out of the room. “Besides, don’t you have to get to work soon too?”

“I’ve got time,” Matthew said with a relaxed smile, trying to lean in to kiss Will, and Will easily pushed him away again, shutting the door in his face, not bothering to lock it because he knew that Matthew would stay out on his unspoken command. Common misconception, that Alphas usually had all the power in the relationship. In fact, Will had always found the opposite to be true.

By the time he was out of the shower, Matthew had coffee and a plate of food ready for him, and Will gratefully kissed his cheek as he passed by on his way to the table. “Really though, don’t you have work?” he asked as he sat down, picking up his fork.

“Mid-shift today, remember? So I still have a few hours, and I won’t be here when you get home,” Matthew said, leaning against the counter with his own cup of coffee while he waited for his portion of the food to cook. Dressed in only the pair of sweatpants that Will had thrown at him, his torso exposed, he was _very_ distracting, and Will took a moment to realize that he was staring and quickly looked away. Too late. Matthew smirked over the rim of his coffee cup, green eyes alight as he looked at Will.

“Hey, you didn’t want it,” he said, and Will shook his head, spearing a few more home fries on his fork.

“I didn’t have _time_ for it,” he argued, and Matthew rolled his eyes, moving over to kiss him on the cheek.

“There’s always time for sex,” he whispered, then kissed Will’s cheek again, wandering off to check on his food.

Will rolled his eyes, returning to his own food as he located his glasses from where he’d dropped them on the table yesterday, folding them up and putting them into the breast pocket of his blazer. He did, however, subtly check Matthew out while his back was turned, working at the stove, though Matthew caught his gaze a moment later and grinned, turning off the burner and coming towards him.

“No, Matthew no, I’m already dressed and I just showered and—” Matthew ignored his pleas, picking him up bridal style and carrying him upstairs, dropping him down onto the bed and then collapsing on top of him, kissing him heatedly.

Goddamnit, he was going to be late.

***

“Quiet down, everyone. Just because the teacher’s late doesn’t mean that you get to spend the rest of the class gossiping.”

Will waited for the room to quiet down a bit before turning back to what he was teaching, the new material he was going over. He had to stop the lesson several times to get the class to quiet down, though, and it was a bit odd. They could be loud and boisterous, most people their age were—hell, Will had been like that at one point in his life, albeit much younger and very briefly—but this was different. Usually they could actually sit down and pay attention to the lesson that was going on, but today it felt like he was stopping every five minutes to get their attention again, like there was something going on that they all couldn’t stop talking about. He ended up releasing them ten minutes early, giving up for the day, and they all gratefully scrambled out of their seats, heading to the door quickly. He was turned around facing his desk, sorting through his lesson plan for the next day when he heard the sound of heels clicking against the floor, the type of sound he only associated with one person.

“Have you come to pay me a personal visit, or is this something more professional?” he asked, turning around to face Alana.

“Little bit of both, I think,” she said, and offered him a smile that was quite obviously strained, that much wasn’t hard to see. His brow furrowed slightly as he realized it, saw the tension that she carried in her posture, immediately tipping him off that something was going on.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, not bothering to waste any time with meaningless in between chatter when he’d prefer to get straight to the point, to the root of what was bothering her. Whatever it was, it had to be bad, because he’d never seen her shaken up this badly before.

She didn’t answer for a minute, crossing over to his desk and leaning her hip against the corner of it, looking down at his lesson plan on the computer. He gently shut it, and her eyes darted to his briefly before darting away again, when it should have been the opposite way around.

“I was hoping that I would get to you before you heard it from anyone else,” she said, her voice hesitant, heavy, laden with some hidden meaning that he just wasn’t getting at the moment. “I know you don’t really pay attention to the news, so I thought someone would have to tell you themselves.”

“Tell me what?” he asked cautiously, not sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. Not if it had Alana this shaken, not if it was big enough that it was on the news. Only one guess as to what it could be rose to his mind, and he tried to shove it back down, tried to tell himself that it wasn’t possible. But Alana’s next words didn’t do much to soothe that worry.

“Will, how did you catch Hannibal Lecter?”

She looked directly up at him, and those sapphire eyes didn’t lie. No. No no no no no, this wasn’t happening right now. This couldn’t be happening. “I…dazzled him with my wits,” he said sarcastically, waving a hand as if he didn’t particularly care about his words, because he didn’t. Another fake answer, another excuse to avoid the truth. Always avoid the truth. “Why?”

“Be serious, Will,” Alana said, though the reprimand was light, gentle, hardly a reprimand at all. She seemed too shaken to properly scold.

“I am, Alana. What aren’t you telling me?” There was a slight edge to his voice now, Will never having liked when people withheld information from him, whether they thought it was for his own good or not. Ignorance was not bliss, ignorance had almost gotten him killed, and Matthew had learned very early on not to hide things from him, not even little things. That was part of the reason why he loved Matthew; he was honest with Will, spoke his mind and wasn’t afraid to tell the truth, even if it was painful for one or more of the people involved. Will appreciated that.

She took a deep breath, eyes lifting to his, sapphire meeting cerulean. “It’s Hannibal. He broke out of prison this morning,” she said, blue eyes lifting to his again, and Will felt something cold shoot through him, something sharp.

He swallowed thickly, putting his hand out onto the desk to steady himself because suddenly it felt like things were spinning, and the room seemed darker. “What?” he asked, having trouble getting the word out, his throat feeling like it was closing up, like everything was closing in around him. His breathing suddenly seemed much louder in the silence that Alana let linger just a moment too long.

“Hannibal Lecter escaped from prison this morning,” she repeated, and he took a step back, nearly stumbling. “Will,” she said, concern in her tone as she took a step towards him, his vision beginning to swim.

“I—I—” Whatever he was going to say didn’t make it out as blackness overwhelmed his vision, and the last thing Will heard was a cry of his name.

***

“They told me you passed out.”

“Shouldn’t you be dealing with actual patients and not your husband passing out because he received bad news?”

“You hit your head on the desk on the way down, Alana was concerned, as am I. Now, look at me.”

Will blinked as a light was shone into his eyes, pupils shrinking down as they took in the bright pen light Matthew was shining at him. “I’m fine,” he insisted, even though Matthew wasn’t listening to him, busy checking him for a concussion.

“What’s your name?” he asked, and Will resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Will Brown.”

“And your husband’s name?”

“Matthew Brown.”

“Any nausea, headache, dizziness?”

“No, I’m really fine.”

“And who’s the president?”

“Barack Obama, can I go now?” Will asked, irritated, and Matthew clicked the light off, getting up from where he’d been crouched by Will.

“He’s fine,” he told Alana, and helped Will get to his feet, irritation still present in his expression because that was his predominant emotion right now. Such a typical Omega reaction, to faint upon hearing the news. Thank god it’d been just him and Alana, though now Matthew and his EMT partner Zach had gotten involved, so that was three people in total who knew that he’d fainted like every stereotypical Omega ever. Great, he was really showing progress for his gender.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Matthew said, already seeing where his thoughts were heading and determined to stop them before they got too far. “Most people would have done the same thing after hearing something like that.”

“Most Omegas, you mean,” Will said, a special kind of bitterness in his voice, and Matthew placed his hands on Will’s shoulders, forcing him to look at him for a moment, a few steps away from Alana, who was now talking to Zach.

“You know I’ve never looked down on you for your gender, Will, and I wouldn’t start now. Most _people_ would have done that, not just Omegas. Some Alphas would have done it too, I guarantee it.”

Will wasn’t convinced but gave Matthew a small smile, which Matthew gratefully returned. “Now, are you okay?” he asked, tone dropping back into worry.

“Jesus Christ, Matthew, I’m fine.”

“I don’t mean the concussion, Will.”

Will took a deep breath, biting down on his lip as he looked away from Matthew. “I don’t know how to feel,” he confessed with a light sigh, looking down at the desk. He laughed slightly, a little bitterly. “How are you supposed to feel when a psychotic killer that you put away escapes from prison?”

Matthew didn’t offer an answer, those intense green eyes focused on Will as he waited for him to continue, knowing he wasn’t done yet. Will let the conversation lapse into silence for a minute, looking down at the ground as he shifted uncomfortably, nervously. “I mean really, how am I supposed to feel?” he asked, looking up at Matthew for a moment before his eyes darted away again, never settling anywhere for very long. “Terrified? Alarmed? Panicked? I don’t feel anything right now. I just feel sick.”

“Nauseous?” Matthew asked, brow furrowed just a bit, and Will shook his head, slightly exasperated.

“I don’t have a concussion,” he repeated, and Matthew held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said, his eyes still steadily on Will.

Will rubbed his forehead with his hand. “I know,” he said after a moment, dropping his hand away. “Sorry, I’m just...sensitive at the moment. I feel like all of my nerve endings are exposed for the world to see. Like I’ve been turned inside out.”

“You get poetic when you’re scared, you know that?” Matthew murmured, a slight smile on his lips, and was rewarded with a small smile from Will, no doubt his goal.

“I don’t even know if I’m scared,” he said honestly, the smile fading. “I don’t know if I should be. The likelihood of him coming after me—” He choked on the next words, unable to get them out because although he wasn’t sure if he was afraid, the words felt taboo. A curse. As if speaking them would make it more real. He was still in that in-between state where it didn’t feel quite real, though he knew the horrifying truth. Alana wouldn’t lie to him. And Matthew hadn’t refuted what she’d said yet, meaning either he hadn’t heard about it or had, and just didn’t want to confirm it quite yet. Will looked up at him, blue eyes questioning, and Matthew tilted his head slightly, looking back at him. He looked hesitant, but nodded, and Will’s eyes slipped shut under the weight of the confirmation.

“Jesus,” he said a moment later, blindly reaching out to place his hand on his desk for support, and he heard Matthew step closer, a gentle call of, “Will?”

“I’m okay,” Will said, though he knew he didn’t sound convincing at all, and a moment later, felt a gentle touch on his arm, a request. He nodded weakly and Matthew pulled him into a hug, wrapping strong arms around him, and Will took a deep breath, breathing in the comforting scent of his Alpha. There was nothing that settled his nerves like Matthew’s scent, strong, powerful, masculine, and above all, soothing. He took several deep breaths, just breathing him in for a minute, before saying quietly, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything, babe,” Matthew replied, rubbing Will’s back with his hand.   
“I get poetic when I’m scared, you get affectionate when you are,” Will said, and felt Matthew press a kiss to the top of his head, smiling slightly.

“I’m not scared of Hannibal Lecter. I’m afraid of losing you.”

Will looked up at him, seeing the seriousness in his expression. “Matthew, you’re not going to lose me. No matter what happens. Hannibal Lecter isn’t going to take me away from you. Nothing is.”

***

_The mingling of breath in the air, lips meeting lips in a frenzied rush, heated kisses that trailed down his neck. Strong, broad hands that gripped his hips, pulling him closer again and again as he gasped out in pleasure, rocking back against the hands holding him in place. Heat, heat, everything was hot to the touch, sweat dripping as fire burned underneath his skin, like nothing he’d ever felt before. His first heat, the overwhelming desire to be filled with something, anything, just so that empty aching sensation would stop and he could properly breathe again. Right now it was soft pants, little puffs of air that fell on his partner’s cheek at every impassioned thrust from him. He breathed in lust and exhaled love, listening to the nearly incoherent whispers of his partner, the promises that he’d been young enough to believe. But everything was coiling in tighter, curling closer, and it didn’t take long for him to let go with a cry of his partner’s name._

_“Hannibal!”_

Will woke up panting and sweating, clutching tightly to the sheets in the same way his hands had just been clutching Hannibal’s shoulders in the dream, and he quickly released his grip, finding that his hands were shaking. Everything was shaking, actually, and he was having trouble calming down, everything catching up at once, the dream having felt far too real. Probably because it was a memory.

He slid out of the bed, out from underneath Matthew’s arm across his waist, and slipped downstairs, a few of the dogs following him from where they’d been lying near the bed, their usual spot. It was hard to move quietly when even his legs were shaking, but somehow he managed to pad down the stairs, the dogs pausing at the top, and he turned to look back at them at the bottom, surprised that they didn’t follow him. Instead, they sat right up at the top, looking down at him, and he brushed the uneasiness that was creeping up on him aside, walking into the kitchen.

Water. Water was necessary to wash away the insufferable heat from his dream, just an echo from the past but enough to make him sweat in the present, though he had a tendency to heat up when he slept anyway. Not to the point that Matthew did, since Matthew turned into an absolute furnace, but he was still warm enough to be uncomfortable, and that only worsened if he had a nightmare, no matter what the nightmare was. Tonight heat had just happened to be the theme.

“Hello, Will.”

He dropped his glass of water as he whipped around, expecting to hear it shatter on the ground, but the Alpha was quick enough to catch it, gently setting it on the counter. He turned back to Will, those familiar maroon eyes dark in the dim kitchen, lit only by the moonlight outside that was casting shadows on them both. It didn’t help Will’s heart, which was being gently squeezed by panic, the pressure increasing as Hannibal took a step towards him, Will instinctively taking a step back and hitting the counter with his back.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Hannibal said softly, and Will would have laughed if he wasn’t so afraid.   
He didn’t speak, preferring to let his voice curl up at the back of his throat where it was safe, where it couldn’t be used against him. He should be screaming. Yes, he definitely should have been screaming, crying out for Matthew, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, couldn’t open his mouth for fear of what Hannibal would do. Would he hurt Matthew if Will called him down? Who would win in that fight? Or would he try to kill Will before he got it out? Or maybe, ideally, he’d just turn tail and run. But that was unlike Hannibal.

Hannibal took another step closer, taking a deep sniff of the air, and Will tried to shrink back against the counter as far as he could. “You’re bonded now. To the Alpha upstairs, I take it. How long have you been together?” His voice was smooth, even, impossible to read, and Will tried to coax his voice out of hiding, find out where it’d fled to.

“Years,” he managed to croak out, and cleared his throat, the whole thing far too dry, sandpaper no matter how many times he swallowed.

“But no children.” Hannibal gave a contemplative hum, the weight of his eyes temporarily off of Will, and then quite suddenly they were back and Will was averting his own again. “Why is that?”

Will shook his head, not able to voice a proper answer, and Hannibal took another step closer, stepping into his personal space this time. Will hadn’t thought that his heart could beat any faster but apparently it could, and at this point it had to be audible to the Alpha. This was confirmed as Hannibal tilted his head to the side, seeming to be listening for a minute, and then reached out a hand, as if to touch Will.

“Matthew!”

The call was a little strangled by panic but still clear enough, and Will could hear the sound of Matthew scrambling out of bed upstairs, the entire pack getting up with him because they could all sense the urgency of the situation. Hannibal tsked softly, pulling back, and offered him a bone-chilling smile.

“I’ll see you soon, Will,” he said, and was gone before Matthew made it down the stairs.

 


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will deals with Hannibal's visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I didn't expect to get another chapter out so soon, but it just sort of happened. So here you go! The poem used in this is To Althea, from Prison, by Richard Lovelace.

“Did he touch you?”

“Matthew—”

“ _Did he touch you?_ ”

“No, he didn’t touch me,” Will said, slightly exasperated where he sat at the kitchen table, rubbing his forehead with his hand. He was exhausted and he just wanted to go back to bed but he had the feeling that even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to get any sleep. Not when he was still shaking so hard, every nerve alight, on edge, just waiting for Hannibal to come back and murder them both. God, he’d been so calm when he spoke to Will, a special kind of nostalgia in his voice, as if his feelings for Will hadn’t faded at all with time. Though Will supposed that he’d had little else to do while in prison but think about the man who’d put him away in the first place, when he was only just a teenager. He wondered if that stung, that he’d been beaten not only by someone so young but someone that he’d, well…loved.

“I’m calling the police,” Matthew said, straightening up again from where he’d been bent down to look Will directly in his eyes, though Will was avoiding his gaze, as per usual. He’d gotten better at making eye contact with Matthew over the years, but right now old habits were coming back in full force and he was having trouble looking directly at Matthew.

“No, please don’t,” Will said, finally looking up at him, and Matthew gave him a look like he was insane.

“Will, an escaped psychotic killer just showed up in our kitchen to threaten you and you don’t want to call the police?”

Will sighed, pushing some of his curls back from his forehead. “He didn’t threaten me, exactly. He just said he’d see me soon.” He swallowed thickly at the memory, the words that kept ringing through his head. He should have known that Hannibal was going to come back for him, that his first thought would be to come and see Will. See the person that had destroyed his life so easily, simply by catching him at the wrong time.

 

_Hannibal trying to kiss him with blood on his hands, panic freezing him in place until he turned and ran._

Will shook himself out of it, looking up at Matthew with lost eyes, and Matthew sighed lightly, reaching out to touch Will’s cheek. Will flinched back, and Matthew withdrew his hand, clenching it by his side for a second before heading for the phone. As he started talking to the 911 operator, his words muffled to Will’s ears, Will stared at the glass on the counter, the one that Hannibal had so easily caught when it slipped from his grip. It was a reminder that he’d actually been here, standing in this kitchen, looking at Will with undisguised love in his eyes. It bore his touch, now, and Will suddenly felt sick, dizzy, wanting nothing more than to lie down but knowing that it wouldn’t help any. He wanted to smash that glass, throw it away in pieces so he’d never have to see or touch it again, have no signs left that Hannibal had been here.

Matthew turned when he heard the sound of glass shattering, Will having gotten up and tipped the glass off the counter with one finger, touching it as little as he possibly could. He looked at Will, a question in his eyes that Will didn’t answer, disappearing to get a broom from the closet. He slowly swept up the pieces of broken glass, throwing them all in the trashcan and returning the broom to the closet, eventually going back to his seat at the table and burying his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes as if he could scrub out the image of Hannibal standing where Matthew now stood. As if it would erase his presence here, the lingering scent of another Alpha, so familiar and at one time soothing to Will. Now it set him on edge, made him nervous and anxious, though a hint of that comfort was still there, and that was the worst part. He wasn’t supposed to be soothed by any scent but the scent of the Alpha he was bonded to, Matthew. But he supposed that the past was hard to erase, Hannibal’s touch written into his bones, that first heat that had changed him forever.

 

_Hannibal’s hands all over him, the soft sighs and restless moans, lips everywhere and every touch hot, hot, searing Hannibal’s possession of him into his bones._

Jesus Christ. Those memories would never go away, no matter how hard he tried to get rid of them. They’d sent him to therapy after he caught Hannibal, after the trauma inflicted by that night, by every night he’d spent with Hannibal, but nothing had helped. Besides, considering Hannibal had been his therapist before everything happened, he’d developed a specific distrust of therapists, not quite a fear. It was just that every time he was with one, he was bombarded with the memories of his time with Hannibal, both the therapy sessions and the…other things. That first heat, striking him down in Hannibal’s office at the worst time, unexpected.

Will had always been a late bloomer, but having a first heat at the age of eighteen was nearly unheard of for Omegas. Everyone had simply assumed he was a Beta that just looked like an Omega, with slightly feminine features and a definite womanly shape to his hips. But they’d all been wrong, as proven by that day in Hannibal’s office, when finally, it hit.

 

_He’d entered the office feeling hot, sweating underneath his flannel shirt and feeling a hollow sort of ache in his abdomen, a hunger that he’d never felt before. Hannibal had suddenly smelled amazing to him, like the greatest thing in the world, and he’d found himself squirming in his seat, feeling wet and unsure why he was, why it felt like he was leaking. Why everything felt heightened, his clothing nearly unbearable against his skin._

_“Will,” Hannibal had said to gently catch his attention, his mind having wandered again, and he turned back to him again, blue eyes meeting maroon that was suddenly dark, pupils blown wide, and he couldn’t understand why. He didn’t understand anything at the moment, having trouble concentrating when all he felt was hot, burning up, his breaths quick and shallow._

_“Will, I believe you’re going into heat. There’s no need to be alarmed, but it might be best if you removed yourself from my office.”_

_Will shook his head, instantly dismissing it because it couldn’t be a heat, he was too old. It usually happened in puberty, and he was nearly done with that stage of his life. He was simply too old for it, despite the fact that right now he felt the way he’d always seen Omega heats described. “Why?” he asked, brow furrowing over blue eyes._

_Hannibal took a deep breath, seeming to savor the scents in the air for a moment, eyes closed, and then opened them again to look at Will. “Because if you don’t, I might do something that we both regret.”_

The problem was, he hadn’t regretted it. Neither of them had. He still didn’t regret it to this day, despite now knowing what Hannibal was. He was aware that in some ways, the older man had taken advantage of him; after all, Hannibal was ten years older than Will and Will had only been eighteen at the time it happened. Still, he’d legally been an adult, capable of making his own decisions, and he’d needed someone, anyone in that insufferable first heat. Besides, it was hard to deny the attraction that he’d felt to Hannibal beforehand, the mutual sexual tension in their sessions that he was sure he’d been imagining until that day in his office when Hannibal had been more than happy to help him through his heat. When he’d nearly bonded with him, stopping just shy because they both knew that it was wrong.

Sometimes he wondered how his life would have been different if he bonded with Hannibal, what that would have been like. Maybe he would have never discovered Hannibal’s side activities, or maybe he’d have found out but not reported him. Hannibal would never have gone to prison, and he’d have started a life with him, a family, complete with—no, he wasn’t going to think about that right now. Or ever, if he could avoid it. It was a part of his past, not part of his present, though he’d had to explain to Matthew why he couldn’t get pregnant, and that had been a particularly painful conversation, as understanding as Matthew was. He just never wanted to think about that part of his life, if he could avoid it. His life when he knew Hannibal.

And now he was back, with a promise to see Will again that Will took seriously because Hannibal never lied when it came to those sort of things. He never lied about his intentions towards Will, hadn’t from the beginning. He’d suppressed his desires for a long time, kept them carefully hidden from Will until everything burst into flames with Will’s heat in his office. Then he’d hidden nothing from him, bared all and whispered promises about the future that Will was young enough to believe, thinking that this would be his forever because he’d never felt this way before and Hannibal was just making him feel so _good_. Well, it hadn’t turned out to be forever.

Matthew was his forever. Matthew was the one that he wanted to be with for the rest of his life, just them and the dogs because Will was too broken to have children, something he’d regret for the rest of his life. He wanted to be able to have kids with Matthew, he did, but because of the mistakes of his youth he couldn’t. Because of Hannibal, he couldn’t, though they both bore some blame. So he had to settle for Matthew and the dogs, a happy existence that would carry him out through the rest of his life. As long as Hannibal didn’t take it away from him.

“The police are on their way, and probably the FBI as well,” Matthew said, stepping away from the phone and coming back over to where Will sat. Will lifted his head from his hands, looking up at him, and something in his expression must have tipped Matthew off because the Alpha crouched down by him, looking up at him.

“It’ll be okay, Will. They’re going to be able to find him.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Will said, and Matthew sighed, looking down at the ground before those reassuring green eyes flashed back up to his.

“I’ll make sure that he gets caught.”

“You can’t promise me that, Matthew,” Will said, but Matthew’s eyes had that special darkness in them that came with any mention of Hannibal, and he knew that he was serious about this. Deadly serious. He wrapped his arms around Matthew’s neck, pulling him into a hug, and Matthew hugged him back, rubbing his back with his hand.

“It’ll be okay,” Matthew said softly, and Will nodded because he didn’t feel like arguing anymore. There was no point to it, and Matthew needed the reassurance as much as Will did. They both needed to believe it would be alright.

***

There were no words that could adequately describe the way he felt about Will Graham. He’d tried, in the past, to come up with the proper terms for it, and love was the only word that came close, but it paled in comparison to how he felt about the younger man. It went beyond love, beyond obsession, and certainly beyond infatuation. It consumed him, burned through his body’s core and swept through his bloodstream. Will swam in and out of his dreams, sometimes nude and panting and sweating and begging the way he had that fateful day in Hannibal’s office, sometimes fully clothed and staring at him with wide eyes while Hannibal had blood on his hands like the day everything changed. The dreams changed, fluctuated, but the one constant was the feelings associated with Will. The absolute adoration that he felt, beyond anything he’d felt with anyone before.

Will Graham was unique, a gift from the universe that had fallen right into Hannibal’s lap for him to use as he pleased. He’d known Will was an Omega from the start, nose more sensitive than others and able to pick up on the sweet, light scent, barely there, that indicated Will’s gender. And the fact that he happened to have his first heat in Hannibal’s office, where Hannibal had been so ready and willing to help…well. That’d also been a gift from the universe, helped along a little by the fertility drugs that Hannibal had slipped into the water he’d given Will. He’d managed to time it perfectly, get Will right at the start, before his Beta father realized what was going on, when Will was lonely and vulnerable and suffering through something he didn’t know how to deal with. He’d needed an experienced hand to guide him along, and Hannibal had been happy to provide that.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he was really taking advantage; Will was legally an adult, and their attraction had very much been mutual. Will hadn’t just accepted his help because he was the only Alpha available; he’d wanted to be with Hannibal, and only Hannibal. And Hannibal had wanted the same. He’d wanted Will to be his and his alone, and it had been so tempting to bond with him, to just make that one bite that would entwine their lives forever. But it wasn’t the right time. Will wasn’t in love, not yet, and would resent him for forcing him into something. He’d need to wait, to take his time with it, steadily get closer to Will in a way that wasn’t purely physical, though he wouldn’t mind having that as well. He wanted to be with Will in every way he could, and that was no exception.

It started with a heat and it was supposed to end with a bond, but he never quite made it there. No, Will caught him before he had a chance to seal their love with a bite, and Hannibal had tried to soothe the younger man, tried to get him to understand, but Will had taken off running, and at that point Hannibal knew it was all over for him. So he sat in his house, and waited for the FBI. There was no point in running, and while he wasn’t suited for a life in prison, he wasn’t suited for one on the run either. Besides, prison would only temporarily prevent him from seeing Will. It might take him a while to escape, but he would see him again.

 

Stone walls do not a prison make,

|   
  
---|---  
  
  Nor iron bars a cage;

| 

   
  
Minds innocent and quiet take

| 

   
  
  That for an hermitage;

| 

   
  
If I have freedom in my love

| 

   
  
  And in my soul am free,

|   
  
Angels alone, that soar above,

| 

   
  
  Enjoy such liberty.  
  
 

Lovelace had always had a way with words, and in this case, Hannibal couldn’t think of any words that were truer. He would be with Will, whatever it took. He didn’t think it would take twenty years, but that was an unfortunate fact. Nor did he think that when he found Will again, there would be another Alpha in his house, one that he was bonded to, _married_ to. Will was no longer his, but would be again. Hannibal would make sure of it.

As he carved out his latest message to the FBI, working quickly because he had limited time, he thought about Will, about the look on his face when he saw his latest work. Because they would recruit him to try to track him down, he was sure of that. They would think that Will would be the key to finding him, that he’d be the bait to lure Hannibal in, and in a way, they were right. Will would end up finding Hannibal, Hannibal would make sure of it. But it would be alone, vulnerable, at the right place and the right time. When Hannibal was ready to make him his again; permanently, this time.

One bite was all it would take, one heat, one bond. He could override Will’s bond with Matthew, he was sure of it, the feelings, the connection between him and Will much deeper than anything that Will could have with anyone else. They were meant to be together, and Hannibal was going to ensure that they were, despite what initial reservations Will may have. Those would pass, with time, when he saw what Hannibal saw between them.

But first, he had a little research to do, a few things to find out. Number one, why Will and Matthew didn’t have any children. Because that was odd, didn’t seem like Will, and he had to wonder if it was something physical or otherwise. After all, he wanted to have children with Will at some point, so finding out was important. A little research, and he’d have it all figured out, ready to start his new life with Will. Which was really an old life that he was just resuming, restarting from where it’d fallen by the wayside, Will trying to move on. Unsuccessfully move on, Hannibal would make sure of that. After all, Will was his. Mind, body, and soul. And certainly heart.


	3. Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will deals with the news of bonded couples turning up dead, Hannibal's handiwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I advise that you all go listen to Fourth of July by Fall Out Boy because not only is it a great song, I'm obsessed with it and it fits this story amazingly well. For those of you who don't me, fair warning, I like to recommend music. Like, a lot. So this won't be the last time. Anyway, hope that you enjoy the chapter! Things'll be heating up soon. ;)

“Jack, I—I can’t do this, you know I can’t.”

“You’re the only one who managed to catch him. You’re the best lead we have, he showed up in your kitchen the minute he was free, what does that say? Whatever…connection he had to you then, he seems to think he still has it now. We need you on this.”

Will sighed, leaning back against the edge of the kitchen table, his arms crossed against his chest. “I don’t think I can do it,” he confessed, eyes briefly darting to Jack’s before shifting away again, something guarded in his gaze. “I can’t. I can’t be exposed to this kind of thing again.”

“Will.” Jack’s voice was even, calm, but underneath there was a note of urgency, something he was desperately trying to keep out of his voice but that Will could hear anyway. He already knew how Jack was feeling right now, could sense the desperation that was rolling off of him in waves, try as he might to hide it. Right now, Will didn’t want the empathy, didn’t want to feel what Jack was feeling because it was only going to make him bend when he was already about to break. “You know him better than anyone. You caught him.”

“Yeah, mostly through luck!” Will exclaimed, swinging his eyes back to look at Jack again. “I happened to wander in on him during a murder, I hardly think that counts as a skill.”

“You still know him better than all of us. And he came back here to see you, clearly he still has some sort of feelings towards you.”

Will’s tone was cutting when he spoke, cold and sharp. “So you want to use me as bait.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Jack protested, a soft sigh in his words.

“Then what are you saying? Because that’s what it sounds like to me. That you want to dangle me in front of him like you’re baiting a lion with a particularly juicy piece of meat. I’m not _bait_ , Jack, if he finds me again I have no idea what he’s going to do to me. He could kill me, he could rape me, he could brush my hair and talk about American Idol, it doesn’t fucking matter. The point is, he’s not going to come out of hiding just for me and even if he did, I would want to be a thousand miles from wherever he thought I was.”

Jack opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, clearly frustrated. He tried once more, this time managing to get the words out. “I understand your reluctance, but—”

“No, you don’t. You don’t, because you didn’t just have a psychopathic killer from your past show up in your kitchen and tell you he’d see you again soon. You didn’t just have your entire life turned upside down because any safety you thought you had went right out the window. You don’t currently have the FBI and the police in equal measure crawling all over your house and your husband trying to hold everything together when he’s ready to get a shotgun and go after the bastard himself. You don’t understand, because you can’t,” Will said, and Jack was silent for a minute, simply looking at him while Will avoided his gaze.

“Fear makes you rude, Will,” he said after a minute, and Will snorted softly.

“And here I thought it made me poetic,” he said, and locked eyes with Jack for a moment before he looked away again, shifting where he was leaning against the table edge.

“You could save lives,” Jack said after a minute, his voice soft. “There’s no telling what Hannibal’s going to do now that he’s out, but smart money’s on him picking up where he left off. Whether that’s with you or with his extracurricular activities, something’s going to go down and we want to be there with a pair of handcuffs when it does. We need your help, Will.”

“You’ll have my cooperation with the investigation but that’s it,” Will said firmly, and Jack sighed.

“Will, look—”

“Do I get a say in this?”

They both turned to see Matthew in the opening to the kitchen, apparently done talking to the police officers and whoever else he’d been preoccupied with, and Will relaxed slightly as his Alpha came over to him, wrapping an arm around him. Will resisted the urge to nuzzle into Matthew’s chest, wanting to show more strength than that in front of Jack, though he was now able to catch Matthew’s scent anyway, calm and comforting and just close enough to help him calm down. It was amazing, how something so simple could do so much. He just needed to catch a hint of Matthew’s scent and he’d instantly be calmer, more relaxed, at ease, because this was _Matthew_. This was the man that had loved and cared for him for years now, that’d accepted him despite his less than spotless past. Of course, it wasn’t like Matthew was a saint either, but to Will, he was certainly a savior. Matthew accepted him, broken and traumatized as he was, and didn’t try to change him into something he wasn’t or ‘fix’ him. He just loved him, and for that Will was eternally grateful.

“Mr. Brown. I take it the local PD is down with you, then,” Jack said, barely hiding his irritation at Matthew joining the conversation, clearly having wanted to talk to Will on his own, probably thinking he’d be more vulnerable and susceptible to suggestion then. Wrong.

“They’re leaving an officer outside to watch the house, and I take it one of your agents will be joining them,” Matthew said, unfazed by the layer of mild hostility underneath Jack’s voice. Matthew was unfazed by most things. “So I thought I’d come back over and see how Will was doing. Good thing I did.”

“I was just trying to tell Will—”

“I know what you were trying to tell him. You heard him. He’s not going to do it, so leave him be,” Matthew said, green eyes sharp as they fixed on Jack, an Alpha against another Alpha. No doubt Jack had been hoping that his Alpha status would help to persuade Will to his side, but Will wasn’t as weak-willed as Omega stereotypes usually were. He was a lot harder to push around than that, it was the only way he would have attracted Hannibal’s attention.

Hannibal didn’t want some weak-willed, submissive, easily bent to his will Omega. That would bore him. He’d liked Will—as far as Will could tell—because Will was different. Because Will went against the expectations of his gender and found ways to surprise him, challenge him. Something it didn’t seem like Hannibal had had a lot of in his life before Will had come along. Though, of course, Will could be completely wrong. Maybe the connection between them had been more physical than anything, a question of chemistry, of pheromones. Though that wouldn’t explain why Hannibal had come back for him as soon as he was free from jail. If things were purely physical, he wouldn’t have bothered with Will. No, this went much deeper than that. Unfortunately.

Jack didn’t speak for a moment, looking in between the two of them, clearly displeased but unable to express it without causing a scene. Finally, he pulled a card out of his pocket, handing it to Will, who begrudgingly accepted it.

“My card. In case anything else comes up,” Jack said, voice short, clipped, then headed for the door, not bothering with a proper goodbye. They both watched him go, waiting to hear the door shut before they looked at each other.

“You okay?” Matthew asked, and Will finally let himself nuzzle into his husband’s chest, Matthew’s arms wrapping around him as he took in his scent, so familiar, so helpful. He’d often wished that he could carry it with him everywhere, to help him when the occasional panic attack hit, much rarer now than they were when they first started, when he was younger. Then, even the sight of someone in a three-piece suit had been enough to set him off, and now he was mostly well-adjusted, able to carry on with his life normally. Not anymore.

“They want me to have an agent constantly follow me around,” Will said, not really answering Matthew’s question because he really didn’t want to answer it. “I turned them down.”

“It’s a good idea, Will. You need someone around to protect you when I’m not there.”

Will bristled slightly at that, pulling back enough to look at Matthew. “I don’t need _protection_ , I can handle myself,” he said, and Matthew looked back at him, his expression patient.

“I never said you couldn’t. I know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, I just mean that some added security might be good. That way it doesn’t come down to you defending yourself,” he explained, and Will relaxed again, leaning his head against Matthew’s shoulder, their close heights allowing him to do it comfortably. Matthew was a bit short for an Alpha and Will was a bit tall for an Omega, so it worked out.

“They’re going to have someone follow me around no matter what I do, I know they are. The only choice I made was whether or not to allow them into my classroom. My students already gossip about me enough, I don’t need to give them more of a reason to do it.”

He could feel Matthew nod, the Alpha’s hand smoothing along his back. “I understand. But I think your safety is more important than your pride,” Matthew said, and Will sighed lightly, staring across the room to the corner that Hannibal had backed him into earlier. It was so late in the night now, or rather early in the morning, the sky beginning to turn gray, soft and dark like charcoal smeared across paper. The day was just beginning, and he was supposed to go in today and teach again, but he wasn’t sure if he could. Everything still felt so shaky, so uncertain, and he’d gotten hardly any sleep.

“Maybe you should call in to work today,” Matthew said, seeming to read his mind in that effortless way that he had. Then again, they’d been together for years now; like most couples that had been bonded for a while, they were in tune with each other, able to sense what the other was thinking or feeling. It came in handy, but it also meant that it was hard to hide what he was feeling when he didn’t want Matthew to worry. Or vice versa, though Matthew very seldom tried to hide things from him. There was little reason for him to, especially when Will’s empathy lent him an edge in figuring out if Matthew was being honest or not. They had a pretty honest relationship, overall, which was definitely something that Will had needed after Hannibal. After being so blatantly lied to and used, or at least feeling like he was used.

“I can call in too, we can just stay here the whole day and relax,” Matthew continued, and Will took a deep breath, thinking about it. It did sound tempting, to stay home all day with Matthew, away from the outside world that he knew would be eating, breathing, and living the news of Hannibal’s escape. The stress would be monumental when he went out into the real world, and he was tempted to allay it for the time being, just relax with Matthew and try to forget for a little while that the rest of the world existed.

But after a minute, he shook his head, looking up at Matthew. “My students know that I’m the one that took him down in the first place. Everyone knows. If I don’t show up, it’ll look like I’m hiding. And I refuse to do that. I’m not hiding from Hannibal Lecter, I refuse to let him disrupt my life.”

“Will, I think everyone will understand if you take the day off. They won’t see it as hiding.”

“But that’s what it is, Matthew. It’s hiding from the rest of the world and trying to pretend that everything’s okay when it’s not. I’ve spent enough of my life doing that.”

He was firm, adamant about this, because he didn’t want to seem cowardly, didn’t want to do anything that would reflect a stereotype of his gender. Will didn’t exactly have a problem with his gender; it was more that he had a problem with the way other people saw his gender. Every stereotype that existed felt like a personal offense to him, and he’d always done his best to avoid being one. A lot of people didn’t even suspect that he was an Omega at first, because of the manly way he presented, with his scruff and his flannel and fishing and whiskey. Of course, his scent gave him away to anyone but Betas, and even they could tell by the womanly curve to his hips, built for childbearing and not breeding like an Alpha’s were. It wasn’t like he was hiding his gender; anyone could ask and he’d tell them outright. He was just defying the expectations of his gender, something that he enjoyed doing and that had helped him land Matthew. And Hannibal, he was sure.

Matthew sighed lightly, kissing the top of Will’s head. “Okay. Whatever you say.” Will knew that he was only conceding for Will’s sake, and he appreciated it, squeezing Matthew gently to show his gratitude for the gesture. He didn’t want to fight right now, didn’t want to do anything but go back to sleep and forget about all of this in the lovely state of unconsciousness that would envelop his brain, leave him at peace for once. For a little while, at least. Then he’d have to wake up and face the reality of his situation, the hellish nightmare that he currently lived in.

He resisted the urge to sigh, looking up at Matthew for a moment as he thought, who patiently looked back, waiting for him to speak. “Maybe I should try to apply for suppressants again, just while this is going on. I don’t want to be distracted by my heats,” he said, and Matthew seemed to consider it for a minute.

“You know they’re just going to turn you down again. You heard the doctor last time, they’re a highly controlled substance, you can only get them if you’re in danger of becoming pregnant during a heat and need to prevent that. Since you can’t get pregnant…” He let the sentence trail off and Will nodded, looking down at his hands as he smoothed them over Matthew’s chest.

“I know. But I want to at least try. As much as I enjoy sharing my heats with you, they’re distracting, debilitating. Besides, if Hannibal…” If Hannibal tried to bond him, he’d need a heat for it to work. So if Will didn’t have heats, that wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

Something dark entered Matthew’s eyes at the very thought, and Will caught it just as Matthew tried to hide it, slip it behind a mask of calm. “It’ll be okay,” Will promised, though Matthew wasn’t looking at him, clearly trying to hide it but unable to. “He’s not going to bond with me and even if he did, it wouldn’t work because I’m bonded to you. Old bonds outweigh the new ones, you know that, Matthew.”

Matthew was silent for a minute, moving his jaw around in that agitated way that he had, and Will waited, rubbing his arm soothingly with his hand. “I hate him,” he said after a minute, eyes moving back to Will. “I hate him so much, and I hate that he was your first and I hate that he took advantage of you when you were so young and I hate that he’s such an important part of your life. I hate what he did to you, I hate it so goddamn much, Will.”

“I know you do,” Will said, eyes soft as he looked at him. “And I’m sorry. I wish I’d never taken up with him in the first place.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You were young, he was an enticing older man, and you were in your first heat and didn’t know what to do.”

All true, but that didn’t make it any better. He knew how much it bothered Matthew, but there was nothing that he could do about it but comfort him when it came up. He couldn’t change the past, as much as he may have wanted to, and they both had to live with the consequences of his actions. And honestly, he wasn’t sure how to fix it, what he could have done differently to make it better. Even if he hadn’t spent his first heat with Hannibal, something may have happened between them, what with the kind of chemistry they had. Maybe they would have ended up sleeping together anyway, maybe a bond was imminent. He just didn’t know, and it was too late to find out.

“Hey, look at me.” He waited until Matthew’s eyes were on him, and earnestly looked back at him. “It’s okay. I’m with you now. You’re the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with. Hannibal may be back, but he’s a part of the past as far as I’m concerned. I’m not going to let him ruin this.”

Matthew seemed slightly pacified by this, and wrapped his arms around Will, pulling him close again. The problem was, Will didn’t know if his words were true. He _wanted_ to believe what he was saying, but honestly, he just didn’t know what was going to happen. He knew that Hannibal was going to do his best to ruin what he’d built with Matthew, and if it was anyone else besides Matthew, Will would be more frightened. As it was, he could feel anxiety churning in his stomach, a nervous nausea. Hannibal could cause irreversible damage if he tried, and he was certainly trying. Will just had to do his best to survive it. Again.

***

“Will, he’s killing couples.”

“Are in Jack’s camp or mine, Alana?” Will asked, straightening up from where he’d been bent over his desk, making a note on his calendar to meet with a student who needed his help, apparently. He was wary of the appointment, the last few he’d made turning out to be curious students who wanted to interview him about his relationship with Hannibal, claiming it was for some project that he had. He’d dismissed all of them without giving them a word about what they asked about, not wanting to deal with this anymore. All anyone ever talked about these days was Hannibal, and it made him immeasurably sick every time he heard it. Honestly, he wished they’d get bored with it and talk about something else, but considering the fresh bodies turning up, that was impossible.

“Both,” she answered, crossing her arms against her chest. “This is the second bonded couple that he’s killed, both of them in the same week. He wants your attention, Will.”

“And that automatically means I should give it to him?” Will asked, raising his eyebrows. “That won’t make it stop. We both know that he’s not going to stop, not until I’m in his possession. Even then, I don’t know if it would make him stop. He has a taste for killing, my presence might just encourage him to try to take me under his wing as an apprentice.”

Alana sighed, uncrossing her arms and putting her hands on Will’s desk, bracing her weight against them. “Do you have a better idea? You know him better than anyone else, if anyone has a chance to catch him, it’s you.”

“I’ll told you what I told Jack; I’m not going to be used as bait. I want to continue on with my life, not become so entangled in this that I can’t get back out and it’s all I can think about. Hannibal may have some sort of feelings toward me, but he’s not stupid. He won’t come out of hiding unless he thinks he really has me. And I can’t make him believe that.” He took off his glasses, folding them up and tucking them into his wool suit jacket pocket.

“Can’t, or won’t?”

Will repressed an irritated sigh, mirroring Alana’s position as he put his hands on the desk, bracing his weight against them. “Can’t, Alana. How do you propose that I make him believe that I’m on his side? He saw me in that kitchen. He saw how afraid I was of him, how much I wanted to get away. I didn’t even let him touch me. He knows better than to trust me if I suddenly start acting like I want to be with him and take it upon myself to try to lure him back into my life, despite the fact that I’m happily bonded and married. I’m in love with Matthew, he knows that, and as angry as it makes him, it isn’t going to make him any less cautious.”

“Then what do you propose we do? Something has to be done, he’ll keep killing bonded couples until he has what he wants,” Alana said, her tone tense, showing how invested she was in this. She was trying to guilt him into it, he could tell, but he wasn’t going to fall for it. Yes, it was horrible what Hannibal was doing, but Will wasn’t the solution. “Just take a look at the crime scene, that’s all I’m asking.”

Will took a deep breath, trying to find a patience that he didn’t have. “No,” he said after a moment, and closed his notebook, wrapping the band that kept it closed back around it. “That’s exactly what he wants. And I’m determined not to give Hannibal what he wants.”

He shut his laptop next, beginning to pack his things up in his bag, and left the conversation at that. After a minute, Alana turned and left, heels clicking angrily on the floor. In a way, he felt bad. He knew that he could seriously help the investigation, but he wasn’t going to do it. He didn’t want to get roped back into this, wanted to stay as far away from it as possible. It hurt to even think about getting involved, and that was giving Hannibal the attention that he wanted. He was trying to get Will involved, wanted the attention that would come from it, and Will wasn’t going to give it to him. Hannibal could try all he liked, Will was dead set on avoiding it. He wasn’t going to fall into this trap. Unfortunately, eventually he wasn’t going to have a choice.


	4. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will finally agrees to visit a crime scene when one of his students is found dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, so I didn't expect to get this out so fast, but I'm so excited about what's coming next that I couldn't help myself! Yes, I've got quite a few things in store, and hopefully you'll enjoy them as much as I do. :) Thanks for reading!

_I was on a heavy tip_   
_Tryna cross a canyon with a broken limb_   
_You were on the other side_   
_Like always, wondering what to do with life_   
_I already had a sip_   
_So I'd reasoned I was drunk enough to deal with it_   
_You were on the other side_   
_Like always, you could never make your mind_

He should have counted on Will’s tenacity. He’d always known how stubborn the other man was, even at a young age, but somehow the memory of it had faded with time, making it seem like he would actually be a little more malleable now. Well, not malleable, exactly. He was much more flexible in his beliefs at a young age, when Hannibal had attempted to start leading him down a darker path, a path that ended with them happily bonded and, perhaps, with Will understanding his certain activities. Now that he was older, bonded, having created his own life separate from Hannibal, he was certainly going to return to his tenacious ways, and he was showing that now, by refusing to attend the crime scenes that Hannibal left like gifts for him, hidden messages to Will in every one.

Will realized that Hannibal wanted his attention and was refusing to give it to him, choosing to keep his head down, stay out of this mess as much as he could. Unfortunately, Hannibal wasn’t going to let him stay out of it. He needed to remind Will of what they once had, of that first heat they’d shared together and the feelings that had been exchanged, the promises Hannibal had made that he’d always intended to keep. Whispered words of love had passed his lips in the fevered rush that came with their coupling, a promise to bond the next time, always the next time. Will had been too far gone to even hear, occasionally nodding distantly, but Hannibal didn’t believe that he was actually aware of what was being said, only conscious of the sentiment behind it, a sentiment that he’d shared at the time.

Then everything had come undone when he found Hannibal with blood on his hands, not understanding what was going on. His blue eyes had been so pretty, so wide with surprise as he looked at Hannibal, frozen in the doorway of the room and unable to leave, as much as he clearly wanted to. He was torn between running away as fast as he could, fleeing the scene, and staying still, waiting to see if this was some sort of dream, some nightmare that he was afflicted with, as he was from time to time. Hannibal was sure that those nightmares increased tenfold after Will caught him, dreams of blood and a lost love and probably the moments that they’d shared together, from the heat to the sessions spent in innocent contact in his office, the personal details they’d discussed. He’d often wondered in prison exactly how much Will dreamed about him, how thoroughly he’d managed to invade the other man’s mind. The only answer to that question lay with Will, and he was convinced that he could get an answer at some point, whether it be under duress or not.

Ah, duress. He didn’t want to force Will into anything, but he was afraid that he was going to have to. He wanted Will to come to him willingly, of his own accord, but currently Will was showing determination in having nothing to do with Hannibal or his recent kills. A little coercion, then. Not force, exactly, just a gentle nudge in the right direction, something to incite Will, bring out the version of him that Hannibal had known. Young, impressionable, malleable, sweet, innocent, and above all, enthralled with Hannibal. He could never fully bring that version of Will back, not now that he’d changed so much, but he could bring back elements of it. Will still had an innocence about him when it came to Hannibal, he’d seen it in his wide eyes when Hannibal cornered him in his kitchen. He’d instantly reverted back to that scared 18 year-old, at least as much as he could have. He’d been startled, and frightened, a rabbit cornered by a predator.

Only Will had never been prey, not in the traditional sense. Hannibal had intended to make him an equal, not treat him as something to be trapped and caged, though he was afraid that was exactly what he was going to have to do now. Will wouldn’t come willingly, so Hannibal had to find a way to draw him in. And he knew just how to do it.

***

_To let me dangle at a cruel angle_   
_Oh my feet don't touch the floor_   
_Sometimes you're half in and then you're half out_   
_But never close the door_

“William Jacobson?” A pause, an extended silence. “William Jacobson?”

Another pause, Will waiting for a minute before he sighed, turning back to the projector as he flipped a slide. “Today we’re going to talk about Ed Gein.”

This was the third day he hadn’t seen Mr. Jacobson in class, and he’d missed his appointment with Will, ostensibly made to talk about a profile, when really he was sure that he was also going to be fishing for information, just like all the others were. He’d even had a student directly ask him if he was going to talk about Hannibal Lecter, to which his response had been succinct.

“If anyone asks me that question again, they’re going to find themselves banned from this classroom for as long as I feel is necessary. Now, moving on.”

And that had been that. No one had dared to ask again, and he’d been able to calm down from the quiet rage with a tinge of fear that had come from hearing the name. He’d been avoiding the news as much as possible, though it’d been hard not to see at least some mention of his name. The Tattler had been especially virulent about it, or at least that’s what he’d been told by Alana, who, while respecting his boundaries, occasionally updated him on what was going on. He’d received plenty of warnings about Freddie Lounds, but he had yet to actually see her in person. Thank god.

He took a deep breath as class ended, his students beginning to file out, thankfully none of them lagging behind to ask any questions today. He didn’t have the patience for questions recently, finding that his level of irritability had dramatically increased. He’d even been snapping at Matthew, who bore it all with an incredible patience, never blaming him for his bad mood, and Will always tried to apologize afterwards, tried to make up for it as best he could. Sometimes that was verbally, sometimes it was physically. Sometimes it was soft touches and gentle kisses and meaningful caresses, sometimes it was the heated press of lips together as they both steadily shed their clothes. He didn’t think they’d had this much sex since their honeymoon, but fear did make people crave attention, didn’t it? Made them give in to baser urges, the push to mate, to bond, to have something to remind them that they were alive. Will needed that reminder sometimes, needed to feel something that made him remember that he was in reality, not some horrible nightmare that he could wake up from if he only realized he was dreaming. Matthew grounded him, brought him back when he was on the edge of—what, exactly? Losing his grip on reality? Maybe. The very thing that Hannibal had once done for him. Ironic.

His phone began buzzing in his pocket, turned onto vibrate for his lecture, and he pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID and immediately sighing. But he picked up anyway. “Jack, I’ve already told you, I’m not coming out to the crime scene. You can stop calling anytime you like.”

“This is different, Will. He killed one of your students. William…Jacobson.”

Will felt his entire body go numb in one fell swoop, the sensation—or lack thereof—sweeping through him, starting in his skull and ending in his toes. He nearly dropped the phone, fumbling with it for a moment and pushing up his glasses before he asked, voice subdued, “Where did you find him?”

“In Hannibal’s old office. Spread across one of his chairs, his mate spread across the other.”

“I didn’t even know he had a mate…” The detail stood out to Will, a touch of confusion entering his mind, muddling everything else, which was already pretty dazed, lost. Somehow the detail of him having a mate seemed important, and it overshadowed the thought that Jacobson happened to have the same first name as him. He didn’t want to think about that.

“They were only recently bonded. High school sweethearts, apparently.” There was some rustling from the other end of the line before Jack spoke again. “I really need you to take a look at this one.”

Will didn’t answer for a long minute, putting his hand on his desk in an effort to support himself, keep himself standing, as difficult as it was. He wanted to sit down but at the same time felt that that was giving up, giving in to the numbness threatening to swallow him whole. It was eating away at him, working its way in towards his core, and he shivered for a moment before focusing on the sound of Jack asking, “Will?”

“Yeah,” he said after a moment, his voice cracking slightly, and cleared his throat. “I’ll take a look at it.”

***

_You're a holy fool all colored blue_   
_Red feet upon the floor_   
_You do such damage, how do you manage?_   
_To have me crawling back for more_

Maybe coming here had been a mistake. He wasn’t equipped to handle this, wasn’t mentally prepared to handle it. Matthew had asked him, earnestly, if he was sure that he wanted to do this, and Will had been adamant about it, because this was a personal offense against him. Hannibal had done this on purpose to anger him, to incite him into rage-filled action, and while Will didn’t want to, he had to act. Give Hannibal the attention that he wanted, because he couldn’t forgive him for doing this to one of his _students_ for Christ’s sake. Jacobson had been so young, so full of potential, and apparently recently bonded. It was a waste of a life. And he was furious.

He entered the room hesitantly, steps slow, careful, and the eyes of the whole room seemed to turn to him, a few whispers exchanged. Of course, he was practically infamous by now, and he was sure that few people talked more about him than the FBI. After all, he’d caught Hannibal the first time. Why wouldn’t he volunteer to do it again? Why wouldn’t he want to help save lives? Judging by the looks he was getting, he was right in the assumption that they thought he was selfish for what he did. They couldn’t understand the complications that went into it, the backstory that accompanied his relationship with Hannibal. Everyone knew he’d caught him. No one except for Matthew knew how. No one but select therapists and Matthew knew how he’d spent his first heat with Hannibal, wrapped up in each other, skin sliding against skin smoothly, Hannibal’s lips pressed to the hollow of his throat. Memories he’d never wanted to share and had to all the same. With Matthew, at the very least, considering that was part of the whole process. Sharing pasts and secrets, the dark things they hid from the rest of the world. Will had learned just as much about Matthew as Matthew had about him, and the things he’d learned he would take to his grave. Trust, was what existed between them. Something he’d once had with Hannibal and lost entirely.

And now he was at his crime scene. Looking at the two bodies that were grotesquely displayed, one each in the chairs that he and Hannibal had sat across from each other in, discussing secrets and dreams and lies. Jacobson was cut open from his sternum down to his stomach, like an autopsy had been performed on his body, though he hadn’t been sewn back up. His mate lay in the other chair, a wide gash cut across his stomach, throat slit as well, the two cuts clearly made with the same knife. No doubt the one that’d been used on Jacobson as well.

“He was pregnant, you know.” He turned to find Beverly Katz next to him, her arms crossed against her chest, bright blue gloves standing out against the caramel brown of her jacket. “His mate, Calvin Turo? Pregnant, by a few weeks.”

Will resisted the urge to shudder, wondering if Hannibal had known. If he’d done it on purpose to send a message to Will, to let him know that he knew about…other things. He turned back to the bodies, eyes skipping over the wounds to examine the rest of them, try and find what it was that Hannibal wanted him to see. What he’d specifically been trying to say.

“Where were the other victims found? In the previous murders, I mean,” he said, looking back at Beverly, though his eyes grazed past hers, settling on the collar of her jacket.

“First pair was found in the house, in the dining room. He set the table and everything. Didn’t kill the Beta couple that owns it now, surprisingly enough. Next pair was in the back of a restaurant, some fancy place, ‘Porte-bonheur’? French for lucky charm.” She snorted. “Not so lucky after all, I guess. Most recent pair was found in Virginia, actually. Mercy Hospital, right outside their ambulance bay.”

“No one saw him put the bodies there?” he asked, curious, and she shook her head.

“They saw him, they just didn’t realize it was him. The victims were still alive when he dropped them off, albeit barely. He passed it off as an emergency, like he’d found them somewhere, then disappeared before the police could show up. Kind of a big risk for him to take, though. Police show up at hospitals a lot, and anyone could have recognized him. The others make more sense to me.”

They all made sense to Will. And more importantly, he knew where Hannibal was headed next. He held his hands out for a pair of gloves and she uncrossed her arms to hand them over, watching him intently as he put them on, going over to the victims. “He’s never killed a pregnant Omega before, either,” Beverly added, recrossing her arms and keeping her eyes fixed on Will, though thankfully they didn’t hold any of the resentment that others in the room had shown. They were just interested, invested in what Will was finding out, like any good agent should be. “This whole kill is actually out of pattern for him. If I didn’t already know he was targeting you, I’d be suspicious of his motives.”

“I take it Jack told you Jacobson was one of my students.” Will’s voice was quiet, intended to not carry through the room, meant for Beverly’s ears only.

“Yeah. Sorry for the loss.”

Will straightened up from where he’d been crouched next to Jacobson’s body, casting a glance at Beverly as he crossed to the other body, the Omega mate. It always sickened him to see an Omega killed, his thoughts turning to if Hannibal had decided to do the same, silence him about what he’d seen instead of letting him run. If Hannibal hadn’t loved him as much as he did, Will was sure he’d be dead already. As it stood, he was still afraid of Hannibal deciding that he was better out of the way, or forging a suicide pact with Will as an unwilling participant. But that wasn’t like Hannibal. He’d take the lives of anyone else around him before he took his own.

“So,” Bev said after a minute of silence, and Will could hear the hesitancy in her words, and knew what was coming next. “How’d you catch him the first time ‘round?”

Will didn’t answer for a moment, examining the Omega in front of him, feeling nauseous as he examined the gash in the man’s stomach, the place that had once held life that had barely had a chance to grow before it was cut down. He was going to kill Hannibal for this, he really was. Everyone who heard about this would be fired up immediately; killing Omegas was bad enough, killing bonded ones even worse, and killing pregnant ones? Well. They hadn’t had that since Albert Frenz, the strangler who’d killed pregnant Omegas because he was jealous of Alphas’ ability to mate with them. It’d driven him mad, that he couldn’t have what Alphas did, couldn’t form a bond with any of the beautiful Omegas he saw. So he killed them instead. Took their life as well as the lives of their unborn children. Thank god he was now locked up for life, serving five consecutive life sentences and rotting away in prison somewhere.

“I gave him a lap dance and in return he told me everything,” he said with a completely straight face, and Beverly smiled, shaking her head.

“So it’s a secret, then.”

“Something like that,” he said, and stood up again, taking the gloves off as he headed for the door. “Tell Jack he can call me to hear what I have to say about it. And remind him,” he said, turning to point at her, “that this is the only one I’m consulting on.”

“You’re leaving? Just like that?” she asked, turning to face him with her brow furrowed in confusion.  
“Yes. I already know what I need to,” he said, and then was out the door before she could protest.

***

_And with one kiss_   
_You inspired a fire of devotion_   
_That lasted 20 years_   
_What kind of man loves like this_

‘WILL GOD SAVE YOU FROM THE CHAOS?’ Will stared at the sign outside the church for a few minutes, the large, bold black letters standing out against the white background of the sign. The church itself was white as well, getting lost in the snow that surrounded it, a small little thing that tended to escape the notice of people driving by. Part of the reason why Hannibal had chosen it, he supposed, though it had more to do with the past than anything. After all, he was choosing to leave his victims all in places he’d been with Will—his home, where he’d had him and his father for dinner. The restaurant, where he’d taken Will one day for a bit of unorthodox therapy, claiming getting out of the office would be good for them both, when really it was a courting gesture, and they both recognized it as such. The hospital that he’d visited Will at when he’d had a broken arm. His office, the space in which Will had had his first heat and the place where they’d had so many discussions about so many things. And now, this church. The church that Will had always told him about, had always said he’d get married in one day because that was where his parents had gotten married and at eighteen he still had dreams of his mother coming back to them.

This was where Hannibal wanted to meet him, he’d made that clear by placing the last kill where he did. He was making a path for Will to follow, putting corpses in places significant to both of them in the hopes that Will would catch on and come find him. Come out to play, as it were. Well, here he was. Ready to face down the monster from his nightmares, or so he hoped. Really, he would never be prepared for this, never ready for one on one time with Hannibal, but he had to do it. Had to try and stop the killing, in whatever way he could. This was his only choice right now, and Hannibal had made sure of that.

He took a deep breath, finally tearing his eyes away from the sign in front of the church as he started to walk towards it, moving hesitantly, constantly looking around, maybe for Hannibal, maybe for an FBI tail. Maybe even for Matthew, who didn’t know where he was. With all luck, Will would be back before he even knew he was missing. But when had he ever had any luck?

 The door creaked as he opened it, carefully shutting it behind himself, his presence already announced for him by the sound. And the church was…empty. He’d expected as much, expected Hannibal to pick a day when no one else was here. But the back of the church, where the altar stood, was not empty. Baby’s breath, azaleas, mallow, heliotropes, lilies—and those were only the ones that he could name. Flowers. Flowers everywhere. He could hardly believe his eyes, the flowers covering the entire back portion of the church, overflowing on top of the altar. And they were all meant for him. He wasn’t an expert in the Victorian language of flowers, but Hannibal probably was. Each of these had been chosen with care, each meaning picked especially for him. Hannibal had taken the time and care to arrange this, waiting for Will’s arrival, and now here he was. Viewing what was only meant for Will’s eyes.

“Hello, Will.”

He spun around, surprised by the sudden voice behind him, and found Hannibal standing in the aisle between the pews, smiling gently at him. Hannibal took a step forward, Will automatically taking a step back, but the other man didn’t seem fazed. He stopped where he was, looking at the arrangement of flowers rather than at Will.

“Do you like them? I chose them specially for you. Something of a mess, but they’re all very pretty. I thought they suited you.”

Another step forward, and Will reached out blindly to grab onto a pew for balance as he stepped back and nearly tripped. Hannibal tutted softly, that smile still on his lips, and took another step forward, Will not moving this time. No, he was frozen in place by those eyes, those maroon eyes that looked straight through him and saw every emotion he was trying to hide. The fear, the anger, the confusion, the slight, tiny, very small, almost nonexistent feeling of nostalgia that came with being with Hannibal. This close, he could catch just a hint of his scent, and found himself relaxing a bit upon smelling it, though his brain rebelled against every bit of tension that his body released, little though it was. He shouldn’t have been calmed at all by Hannibal’s scent, should have been stressed about it, anxious, but he couldn’t manage it. Hannibal was written into his bones, seared across his soul, and there was no getting rid of that, no matter how hard he tried.

Hannibal seemed to see it, the smile on his lips taking on a touch of a smirk before it smoothed out again as he took another step back. Will countered with one of his own, though he nearly stumbled over the pews. “Careful,” Hannibal said, a hint of actual concern in his voice, and Will was tempted to spit back a retort, yell at him, scream at him, make as much noise as possible. Cause a scene, even if no one was around.

But he couldn’t speak. His tongue felt like it was glued to the floor of his mouth, and though he was swallowing, his throat was still incredibly dry, both unfit for speech at the moment. All he could do was look at Hannibal and step back on shaky legs every time Hannibal stepped forward until he bumped into the altar, back flat against it as he waited for Hannibal to strike. Because oh, he was going to strike. Will could see him tensing, coiling up like a snake about to thrust forward to bite, and the question wasn’t if he was going to bite, it was how.

And in a minute, he did. He leapt for Will, who tried to slip past the altar and run to the back of the church. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough, as Hannibal tackled him to the ground, rolling him onto his back and wrapping strong hands around his throat. Will fought, oh, he fought desperately, kicking and scratching and biting and punching, but his resolve was steadily fading as black dots began to appear in his vision, slowly covering it. He scratched weakly at the hands holding his throat, but all too soon his vision was completely covered, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics used in this chapter come from What Kind of Man by Florence and the Machine, which I highly recommend because it's a great song, it's super Hannigraham, and it applies to this fic really well.


	5. Malediction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is reunited with Hannibal in a more personal way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, there be porn ahead in this chapter. Kind of bittersweet porn, but porn all the same. Enjoy!

Will woke up in heat. No, wait, that couldn’t be right. He wasn’t due for a week, at least, he couldn’t be in heat now. But he could feel it, feel that burning underneath his skin, the hollow ache in his abdomen, the sticky wetness that kept him shifting, uncomfortable and craving something that he couldn’t get at the moment. He whined as he shifted, desperate for some sort of touch, anything to relieve the arousal that was currently trapped, grating against the soft cotton of his underwear. Everything felt unbearably sensitive right now, his clothing heavy, rough against his skin despite the soft fabrics he was wearing, flannel underneath his coat. Which had been removed, apparently, and thank god for that, because he wasn’t sure he would have been able to bear the weight of it at the moment.

He wriggled his hips desperately against the bed, eyes still closed against the outside world, unwilling to completely face the reality of waking up in the middle of a heat right now. Just a little more time with his eyes closed, and he would open them to the outside world, face the consequences of his heat. Find Matthew, go at it like rabbits until it was over and they were both satisfied. He really wished they hadn’t denied his request for heat suppressants again, as his heat was just getting in the way right now, but there was nothing to be done about it. He just needed to get through it so he could go back to his life.

Everything felt muddled right now, his brain sluggish, trying to pull up the details of what he’d been doing before he’d fallen asleep. Something to do with the investigation…he’d been at the crime scene, studying the bodies, and then…what then? Where had he gone next? He remembered a sense of urgency, a tinge of fear surrounding his actions, but he didn’t remember exactly what they were. His brow furrowed as he tried to come up with the details, but they were slipping from his grasp, try as he might to hold onto them. Too hard, it was too hard, and he parted his lips, taking in a deep breath as he tried to keep himself calm, despite the fact that his breaths were, on average, nearly pants, struggling to keep up a proper breathing pattern. A moment later, however, he was distracted by a hand on his chest, a gentle touch that was beginning to unbutton his shirt, exposing his chest to the open air with each button that came undone.

Oh. Oh god, that felt nice. His chest, his heated skin finally being exposed to slightly chilly air, an experienced hand working the buttons open at an even pace. An Alpha’s hand, he could tell, partially from the size and partially because he could smell them, a familiar, soothing scent, but not Matthew’s. His brain distantly recognized that fact, recognized that someone other than his mate was undressing him, but he was so deep into his heat that all he cared about was how _good_ the scent was, familiar, calming, Slightly spicy, just a touch exotic in the best way. He knew what it was, knew that he’d scented it before, but he couldn’t place where he’d caught it before. His brain struggled to focus, to bring a little clarity to the situation but it was covered in a fevered haze from his heat and all he could focus on was the hand sliding up and down his chest, relaxing him.

Any minute now, he’d open his eyes. He’d face the situation and deal with it, figure out what was going on and try to fix it, but right now he was enjoying the attentions he was receiving, the touch that was steadily working its way down to the waistband of his pants, then unbuckling his belt. He tilted his hips up into the touch as the hand undid the button and zip of his jeans, craving contact, attention, release. He wanted more and more and more, and that seemed to be the direction this was headed in.

That was confirmed as hands tugged down his pants and boxer briefs, moving them down just enough to give the Alpha access to his slick, wet entrance. Will nearly jumped as he felt the curious touch of fingers to his entrance, two moving around, getting slick before they slid gently into him, little to no effort required because he was already loose, prepared for an Alpha. He groaned softly and heard a light chuckle in return as the fingers began moving inside of him, searching for a sweet spot that would make him—that would make him moan as the fingers hit it, crooking gently to stroke the same area with slickened fingertips.

He rocked his hips down against the hand, turning his head to the side as his eyes finally slipped open. Only it wasn’t his bedroom that he opened his eyes to. Directly in his line of vision was the doorway to a bathroom, the light on, actually the only source of light for both it and the room he was in. It was dim in here, the light from the bathroom casting shadows across everything, across the bed that he was lying on, no doubt with the Alpha that was currently gently fingering him, hand sticky with lubrication that was only increasing with each pleasurable brush of fingertips across his prostate.

A soft whine left his throat as he took a deep breath of the Alpha’s scent, realizing who he was with. And how exactly he’d gotten here. But surprisingly, he wasn’t panicking. Probably because a pleasurable haze was settling over his brain, Hannibal’s scent confusing him, comforting him, causing him to have difficulty pulling himself back out of the mess he was getting himself into. This wasn’t his mate, he wasn’t supposed to be doing this, this was bad, so very bad, but he couldn’t stop. Instead, he continued to rock his hips down against Hannibal’s hand, whining and panting because while this was good, better when Hannibal added a third finger, it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

“Please…” he said softly, hating himself for saying the word but unable to stop himself. The heat was steadily driving him insane, that hollow ache in his abdomen getting worse with each passing second, making his movements a little more desperate as he fucked himself on Hannibal’s fingers, whining in the back of his throat.

Another chuckle, and Hannibal’s hand was removed, a second later Will’s pants and boxer briefs finally pulled all the way off. Hannibal helped him out of his shirt, Will sitting up slightly for it but keeping his head turned to the side, refusing to look at him. Refusing to accept that he was really doing this, that he was really going to have sex with the man that’d murdered dozens of people and been his first love. Well, not really love. Will hadn’t been fully in love with him when they were together, but he’d been steadily falling, that was for certain. But he’d never loved Hannibal the way he loved Matthew.

Matthew…the name briefly crossed his mind and flitted away again as he felt lips press to his member, the wet heat of a tongue following after a moment, licking a solid stripe from base to tip that had him shivering. Hannibal gently took him into his mouth, that talented tongue swirling around him as he sucked up and off Will, removing his mouth for a moment. Will’s hips automatically canted up, begging for more, asking for any kind of release that Hannibal could give him, and he felt a hand soothe along his hip before grasping there, the grip gentle, but firm enough.

Will knew what was coming next and braced himself for it, hands gripping the sheets lightly. That grip steadily tightened as Hannibal began to push into him, stretching him slowly, slowly, slowly, until he was fully seated in Will. He paused there, stroking Will’s hips with his hands before one moved up to Will’s chin, turning to face him. Will’s eyes automatically slipped shut as his head was turned, still refusing to see Hannibal, but at the moment, Hannibal didn’t seem to care. After a moment, Will felt the soft press of lips against his own, a gentle kiss that he reciprocated on instinct. The kiss quickly turned filthy, however, wet and hot as Will parted his lips to an unspoken request, Hannibal’s tongue invading his mouth and exploring, plundering.

He moved his hands to grip Hannibal’s shoulders as Hannibal began to rock his hips, a steady, testing motion, seeing if Will was still going to do this and wasn’t going to run, as he was liable to any moment. Or would have been liable, if not for the fact that his heat was making him crazy and the only relief he found was in Hannibal being inside of him, needing an Alpha to fill him, take him, mount him, breed him despite the fact that he couldn’t be bred. He needed to feel the release that only came with that kind of stimulation, the thrusts of Hannibal deep into him.

Those thrusts were coming quickly now, Hannibal having determined that Will was really going through with this, and Will clutched at Hannibal’s shoulders, nails digging in lightly as he braced himself with his shoulders against the bed for each thrust, panting and gasping in equal measure. He shifted his hips against Hannibal, encouraging him with little rocks of his own that Hannibal took as the invitation that they were. It only made him thrust that much deeper, that much harder, and Will moaned, dropping his head back against the bed.

It was almost like his first heat. Hannibal was taking as much care with him as he had then, on the border between rough and too rough, his hips not quite slamming into Will, but moving with enough force that he was satisfied. In his first heat the positions had been different; he’d ridden Hannibal in his chair, spread wide open across his lap and desperate for what Hannibal was giving him. He was desperate again now, whining and moaning and gasping and panting, desperate for contact, for touch, for Hannibal. And it was dangerous.

“Hannibal,” he murmured, and felt the touch of lips to his shoulder before a sharp bite came. Will’s eyes flew open as he cried out in pain, finally looking at Hannibal above him. There was no denying this was happening right now, no pretending that this wasn’t Hannibal mounting him at the moment, helping him through a heat that shouldn’t have been here in the first place. He nearly pulled away, but a particular thrust from Hannibal stopped him, Hannibal’s forming knot catching against his prostate and nearly making him keen, scratching his nails down Hannibal’s back. Hannibal shuddered with the motion, leaning down to kiss him feverishly, and a moment later Will felt a touch to his member, a gentle stroking that had him tensing more, and more, and more as he steadily climbed that wonderful wonderful incline that was leading him somewhere he definitely wanted to be.

He thrust back against Hannibal with a little more force, a little more desperation, and Hannibal responded by thrusting sharply into him, hips gaining force and speed, his knot beginning to catch against Will’s entrance every time he pulled nearly all the way out. Will expected him to beat him to it, but he wasn’t prepared for Hannibal’s hand to speed up on him, causing him to gasp and thrust up into it until finally, he came, spilling over Hannibal’s hand. Hannibal joined him only a minute later, burying himself deep into Will and coming, his knot fully formed, sealing the two of them together.

Breathless and spent, it took Will a few minutes to come to his senses, the fevered haze of his heat receding some now that he was temporarily satisfied. He closed his eyes for a minute, breathing steadily slowing down, Hannibal’s own harsh breathing above him helping to fill the silence. Then he opened his eyes, and slapped Hannibal fully across the face.

Hannibal stayed with his head turned to the side, Will glaring at him with the full force of hatred in his eyes. “You fucking asshole,” he said, fury clear in his tone, tempted to slap him again. When Hannibal turned back to look at him, he did, in fact, slap him, again, and this time Hannibal kept his head turned to the side, not looking at Will in a clear effort to avoid his wrath. “Where the fuck do you get off, killing one of my students and his _pregnant mate_? I realize you wanted my attention, but that was not the way to go about it. Fuck you.”

Hannibal finally dared to turn back to look at Will, those maroon eyes unreadable as they looked into Will’s cerulean ones. “It was effective, however,” he said, and Will slapped him for a third time, the sound of the hit ringing out in the otherwise quiet of what Will assumed was a motel room. A red mark was already appearing on Hannibal’s cheek, and Will had been sure to hit the same spot all three times for the maximum amount of pain.

“I fucking hate you. Get off of me,” he demanded, and Hannibal looked at him again, amusement in his eyes.

“I can’t. Not until my knot deflates again,” he said, and Will huffed out an angry breath, looking at the ceiling rather than at Hannibal.

He crossed his arms against his chest, pulling them away from Hannibal when the Alpha tried to rub his arm soothingly. “Don’t touch me. I hate you.”

“Hate is a strong word, Will. Especially considering what we just did.”

Will felt sick at the reminder, the remembrance of what he’d just participated in. Willingly participated in, despite the way that his body had urged him into it, quieting his mind with Hannibal’s pheromones so that he’d go through with it. He could blame his heat all he liked, but he was still culpable in this, still bore some of the blame. He’d known it was Hannibal before anything truly serious happened, and should have stopped. For god’s sake he had a mate. He was married, to someone that he loved very much, and he’d just ruined everything. All because he couldn’t control himself during his heat, and Hannibal’s scent still stirred something in him, reminding him of his first heat while also soothing him, forcing him to relax so his first instinct wasn’t to run. Which he should have done.

“Well, we’re certainly not going to do it again,” Will said, his voice firm, very clear on this issue because he wanted to make certain that he didn’t repeat his mistakes.

“Are you certain?” Hannibal asked, and gently rocked his hips into Will again.

Will gasped, oversensitive and unable to stop from rocking back down against Hannibal. It hurt, yes, but it also felt so good, and he stopped as soon as he realized what he was doing. “I’m positive,” he spat, narrowing his eyes at Hannibal, knowing what he was trying to do and having absolutely none of it. As amazing as their coupling had been, he couldn’t do it again. Especially considering the fact that Hannibal hadn’t tried bonding with him yet, but very easily could. Will wasn’t sure why he hadn’t done it yet, but he didn’t want to find out.

Hannibal was still firmly seated in him, his knot formed in full force, a swell that trapped Will with him, connecting them together and making sure that he couldn’t escape for the time being. Couldn’t run from what he’d just done. God, he’d always known he was a fuckup, but he’d never done something this bad before. This was a new level of mistake for him. His only consolation was that he couldn’t get pregnant, that this wouldn’t result in him carrying Hannibal’s child. But that was his only consolation.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down and avoid the rising tide of panic that was flourishing in his chest, like the flowers that Hannibal had displayed for him in the church. His eyes had slipped shut again, and after a moment he felt a gentle hand stroking his cheek that he wanted to swat off but couldn’t find the energy to do it.

“It’s alright, Will. There’s no need to be ashamed.”

His eyes snapped back open, fingers twitching with the urge to hit him again. “Ashamed? I’m not ashamed, I’m _furious_. What we had was twenty years ago, Hannibal, and despite the dubious distinction you have of being my first, that doesn’t give you any claim over me. I am _bonded_ now. To a man I love very much, who I just betrayed in the worst of ways. I’m pissed at you, I’m pissed at myself, but no, I am not fucking ashamed.”

Hannibal looked down at him, a small smile on his lips that Will wanted to hit off. He’d already hit him three times, however, and it’d seemed to have little effect aside from amusing Hannibal, so there was little point. He had to control his anger, keep the rising tide of rage controlled, calm, collected, as difficult as that was. All he wanted to do was get dressed, cover his shame up with clothing and run from the room, forget this had ever happened and go back to his life with Matthew. His husband. Who he loved very much.

He covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes, and felt a soothing touch to his side, Hannibal gently stroking along his ribcage in an effort to calm him. Unfortunately, it was working. That combined with Hannibal’s familiar scent was screwing with his body, making him relax when he should have been tense as all fuck. Hannibal kissing along his chest wasn’t helping either, his lips gentle, moving slowly, and Will tried to resist the urge to peek out from beneath his hands.

Fuck it. He removed his hands from his face, looking down at Hannibal, who was looking up at him with devotion in eyes that were still dark with lust, pupils eclipsing the maroon of his irises. “No,” Will said, voice quite firm, and Hannibal chuckled lightly, laying a kiss in the dip between his collarbones before pulling back.

“Relax, Will, I’m not ready to partake again yet, and neither are you.” He shifted his hips to prove his point, his knot catching against Will’s inner walls, and Will bit down on his lip to stop a telling noise from coming out. Those lips were claimed a moment later by Hannibal, who kissed him firmly, a barely tethered desire present in the kiss, and Will wondered why he was still kissing back. Why he couldn’t seem to completely refuse Hannibal.

He pulled away after a minute, though, breaking the kiss as he looked up at Hannibal with a careful, calculating gaze. “Be honest with me,” he said after a moment, and Hannibal looked back at him, expression calm.

“I’ll be as honest as you let me,” he answered, voice even, and Will didn’t doubt it for a second. When Hannibal lied, it was usually a lie of omission, and not directly lying to Will’s face. He didn’t think Hannibal had ever actually done that.

Will bit his lip for a moment, eyes downcast to where he and Hannibal were joined together before he looked back up at Hannibal, brow furrowed slightly. “Did you know Jacobson’s mate was pregnant when you killed him?”

“Yes,” Hannibal answered without hesitation, and Will’s heart thudded in his chest, a fear creeping into his mind that he couldn’t erase if he tried, couldn’t set at ease. Fuck.

“Why did you kill him, then?”

Hannibal paused for a moment, looking down at the bed rather than at Will as he thought. “Because I know,” he said after a minute, eyes flashing back up to Will’s. “I know why you can’t have children anymore, Will.”

Ice cold water ran through his veins at that, his entire body frozen in place upon hearing those simple words. No. No, he couldn’t know, he couldn’t have any idea why Will couldn’t get pregnant anymore. He simply couldn’t have found that out, there wasn’t anywhere that he could have gotten that information from. Unless he started perusing records at Mercy Hospital while he was there. A chill ran through Will as he thought about it, and he knew that his expression had already revealed everything that Hannibal needed to know.

“How do you know I can’t have children anymore?” he asked anyway, putting on a brave face, a challenge in his eyes as he looked at Hannibal. But Hannibal was clearly not buying it.

“Because otherwise you would have them by now. You always wanted to have children, you told me that, and you said you and Matthew have been bonded for years now. It stands to reason that you would have had some already, if you were only capable of it. But you’re not.”

Shit, he had him there. There was no running away from this, no hiding and trying to refute it. Hannibal knew, shit, fuck, he knew, and there was no way that Will could run away from this. But he didn’t have to confirm it either. So he kept his lips pressed together, mouth firmly closed as he looked up at Hannibal, telling him without speaking that he wasn’t going to have any of it. He wouldn’t confirm his suspicions, because for all he knew, Hannibal could be bluffing. He could know that Will was incapable of having children, but still not know why and was simply telling Will he did to try and get more information out of him. But Will refused to give it to him.

So he stayed silent, up until the moment that he could feel that the swell of Hannibal’s knot had gone down enough to release him. Immediately, he pushed Hannibal back, who didn’t fight him, allowing him to scramble out from underneath him and off the bed, immediately moving to pick up his clothes. He started getting dressed, able to feel Hannibal’s eyes on him as he did so. And then he was out the door without a word, taking a look at his surroundings to try and gauge where he was.

He didn’t even remember how he got home. It was all in a sort of daze, the reality of what had just happened with Hannibal setting in and making it hard for him to think, concentrate, focus. All he knew was that he ended up in the shower at home, the water pouring over his head as he tried to breathe, tried to remember how to calm himself down from the panic that was scratching its way up his chest and into his throat.

“Will?”

The door to the bathroom opened, Matthew stepping in, and Will looked at him, spitting out some water that had made its way into his mouth. Matthew smiled at him, beginning to strip, and after a minute slipped into the shower with Will. Will turned back to face the faucet, Matthew slipping his arms around his waist and pulling him back against him, Will able to feel his clear arousal, no doubt caused by the scent of Will’s heat.

“You’re in heat,” he murmured, burying his face in the crook of Will’s neck. “I thought you weren’t due for another week or so.”

Will didn’t answer, taking a deep breath before he turned around to kiss Matthew deeply, forcefully. Matthew’s hands slipped to his waist as Will’s arms went around his neck, pulling him close. It happened right in the shower. Will didn’t even want to wait to get to a bed or another horizontal surface, too eager to have Matthew, to erase the evidence of what had happened with Hannibal and replace those memories with better ones, ones of the man he belonged with. He wanted to pretend that Hannibal had never happened, replace his touch with Matthew’s, but it didn’t work. Even as Matthew thrust into him, deep and slow, all Will could think about was Hannibal gripping his hips, biting into his shoulder in lieu of biting into his neck to bond them. Thank god for that.

Afterwards, when he and Matthew could finally separate, they both dried off and went to collapse in the bed together, waiting until they both had energy again before getting back to it. Will lost count of the number of times that they had sex, but it was more than a few, and Will was exhausted and sore by the end of it.

But he still couldn’t erase Hannibal’s touch. Couldn’t get rid of the memories of his hands on Will, of his panting breath as he hung above him, grunting slightly at each thrust into him, of his lips as they trailed along his neck and chest. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Hannibal’s face, that amused little smirk on his lips even as his cheek reddened from Will’s hits. There was no getting rid of it, no erasing him as much as he tried with Matthew. It hurt, god did it hurt, but there was no changing it. And things only got worse from there.

Because a few weeks later, what he’d started to suspect was confirmed. He had to go to the doctor to be sure, but once he was, he knew that he had to tell Matthew. God, there had been such an infinitesimally small chance of this happening, and he’d been sure that it wouldn’t. After all, how many heats had he shared with Matthew? More than he could count, and yet this was happening now. The doctors had promised him that hell would freeze over before it happened, though there was a slight chance, something like .0001% that it would happen. He’d just assumed that meant that he was safe, that he could spend all his heats without any consequences, and now, after sharing one with both Matthew and Hannibal…he was pregnant.


	6. Benediction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's pregnancy develops, and a new case arises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, I'm apparently on a streak with writing this thing, as this is what, the third chapter in three or four days? Whew. I haven't been this crazy productive in a while. Probably not since I was working on the first few chapters of A. Well, anyway, enjoy it while it lasts!

“What do you mean, you’re pregnant?” Matthew asked, looking like he was in a slight daze as he stared at Will, brow furrowed over those green eyes that Will was currently avoiding looking into. “I thought…”

“Yeah, I did too,” Will said, leaning back in his chair at the kitchen table. He turned his coffee cup with his hand, a nervous habit that he’d never quite been able to shake. And he certainly was nervous. Not because he was worried how Matthew would react, but more because of what Matthew didn’t know. Of what he wasn’t sure that he could tell him. He already knew how Matthew would react to the pregnancy, that part was easy. Everything else was the hard part. “But the doctors never explicitly said that I couldn’t have children period. They told me that the chance was so small that it practically didn’t count for anything. But apparently it does count.”

“But we’ve been sharing your heats for twenty years. Why now?”

Will shrugged, though he had a suspicion. A suspicion that led him to believe that the baby was Hannibal’s. Because it was quite possible that Matthew was sterile, and just hadn’t known that he was. They’d never gotten him tested because there hadn’t been a point; Will already couldn’t get pregnant, so they didn’t need to test whether or not Matthew could have children. The point was moot. And while it was rare in Alphas, it was still possible. How ironic would that be, if they were both equipped to not have children? Though apparently Will was.

Though, of course, Will could be entirely wrong. The timing simply could have been a coincidence, and the baby could still very well be Matthew’s. The problem was, he wouldn’t know unless he did a paternity test, which he could do while still pregnant, but that would be hard to explain to Matthew if he found out. And god, he didn’t want Matthew to find out. He didn’t know what his reaction would be to hearing that Will had not only slept with Hannibal, but possibly gotten pregnant from him. And he was terrified of losing Matthew. He’d been a source of stability and reality for Will, always being sure to take care of him and meanwhile loving him with every fiber of his being. Will didn’t deserve him, he knew that. But he’d held onto him all the same because he loved him more than anything and couldn’t imagine ever being apart from him. But this could force them apart.

Only if he told the truth, though. Only if he confessed that he’d met Hannibal in secret, been kidnapped, had sex with him, all without reporting his location to the FBI. And now was possibly pregnant with his child. God, he couldn’t tell Matthew. What if he left? Leaving Will to raise the baby on his own, or to run to Hannibal because he needed the security of an Alpha, the kind of care only they could provide? Though that presented problems in and of itself. Because if the baby wasn’t Hannibal’s, he’d probably kill it. Alphas were incredibly jealous of other Alphas, and almost never abided by raising another Alpha’s child. So the same issue would arise with Matthew if the baby turned out to be Hannibal’s. At least, if Matthew could tell. At first he probably wouldn’t be able to, unless the baby came out with Hannibal’s maroon eyes or something, but eventually he’d figure it out. So Will was stuck, his options limited even if he did find out who the father was.

Matthew stared at him for a minute more before a broad, dazzling smile broke out over his features, and he quickly stood, moving over to Will and leaning down to hug him tightly. He pulled back after a moment, looking like he was about to speak before he stopped, seeing Will’s expression. “This is the best news I’ve ever heard, why do you look so upset?” he asked, brow furrowing again.

“It’s just so sudden,” Will lied, though that was a half-truth. It _was_ so incredibly unexpected that he was having trouble accepting it, but both a home pregnancy test and then a blood test at the doctor’s had proven it. He was really, truly pregnant, and it was terrifying. Only a little while ago he would have been ecstatic about this, would have thought it to be the greatest blessing, but now he was scared shitless about it, unsure of what was going to happen next. If he was going to have to choose between his husband and a psychopathic serial killer.

“And I’m afraid I won’t be a good parent,” he mumbled  a minute later, and Matthew crouched down by him, looking up at him earnestly as he took one of Will’s hands in both of his own. “You’re going to be a wonderful parent, I know you are,” he said, tone serious as he looked at Will. “There’s no one else that I’d rather have a child with.”

He hugged Will again, and this time when he pulled back, Will managed a smile, small and subdued as it was. He wanted to believe Matthew, wanted to think that everything would be okay, but there were too many variables at the moment and he just didn’t know. It all depended on who was the father and what he decided to do with that information. But even that he couldn’t find out because he’d need DNA samples from one of them, and that wouldn’t be easy to get. Not without arousing suspicion.

What he did know, though, beyond a doubt, was that Hannibal couldn’t find out. He didn’t want him to know, didn’t want him to think that there was even a chance that Will was going to come back to him, maybe even bond with him. He was already about two and a half weeks in, and around twelve weeks he’d start showing. So he’d have to make sure that he didn’t see Hannibal in that space of time, that he had nothing to do with him. It was almost certain that Hannibal was going to try to contact him again, but now that he’d gotten what he wanted, he’d probably put a temporary hold on killing, satiated, at least for the moment. He knew that that wasn’t going to last, though, and eventually Hannibal was going to demand his attention again. But this time, he really couldn’t give it to him. For his own sake, and the sake of his unborn child.

Jesus, he’d really fucked up. He didn’t know what to do now, and was so fucking terrified of facing the consequences of his actions, but didn’t really have a choice. He would never get rid of the child, and couldn’t anyway now that he’d told Matthew. But he hadn’t had a choice in that either. He would have only been able to hide the pregnancy for so long, and besides, he didn’t want to lie to Matthew. Despite the fact that he was doing that right now, lying by omission by not telling him what had happened with Hannibal. God, what the fuck was he going to do?

He listened distantly and nodded as Matthew started talking about a baby shower, a light in the Alpha’s eyes as he gently stroked Will’s stomach, clearly so ecstatic about finally having a baby. God, he wished he knew for certain it was Matthew’s. He desperately wanted it to be his, but considering he hadn’t gotten pregnant for twenty years and only did after Hannibal came along, all signs pointed to it being Hannibal’s baby. Which meant that eventually, he’d have to tell Matthew, and face whatever consequences came with that revelation. He’d already gotten through his panicking stage, remembering leaving the doctor’s office and hyperventilating in the car, choking back tears that had threatened to overwhelm him. He’d sat in that parking lot for an hour, finally forcing his breathing into deeper, shuddering breaths before he’d thought it was safe for him to drive home. And even then, he’d been shaking the entire way home, glad that when he did arrive, Matthew was still at work so he could have a miniature breakdown in the kitchen, the dogs surrounding him as if trying to figure out what was wrong.

It was going to be alright, he kept telling himself. He’d figure something out, find a way to handle this situation in a way that kept everyone happy. Well, except Hannibal. He was determined that Hannibal would never even find out about this, even after he had the baby. Hopefully by the time that Will was fully into his pregnancy Hannibal would be caught, but considering he was going to start showing in a few weeks, that seemed unlikely. The FBI had no leads, and Will was still their best chance of catching him. But he couldn’t visit another crime scene, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t see whatever grotesque message Hannibal had left for him this time, just couldn’t handle Hannibal trying to meet up with him again. There was no way that was going to happen.

“Will?”

He snapped out of his thoughts at the gentle call of his name, finding Matthew looking at him with worried eyes. He gave him a reassuring smile, seeing the relief that showed in Matthew’s eyes. “I’m listening, I promise,” he said, and Matthew stayed silent for a moment, seeming to size him up before he leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised as he pulled back, and offered Will a smile. “Now, how about breakfast?”

“As long as it’s not eggs,” Will said, taking a sip of his coffee, and Matthew frowned. “I can’t stand the taste recently.”

“Should you even be drinking coffee?” Matthew asked as he went to the fridge to get out supplies for breakfast.

“Small amounts of caffeine are okay, less than 200mg per day. I did my research, Matthew. I don’t have to entirely give up caffeine while I’m pregnant, though I might have to when I get into the second and third trimester.”

Matthew nodded, seeming pacified with this information as he pulled out a package of bacon that Will looked at hungrily. Bacon sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world right now, his taste buds, cravings, and sense of what foods he wanted completely out of whack, even this early in the pregnancy. Hence why he could no longer stand the taste of eggs, though he hoped that that would change once he had the baby. He’d miss eggs if they were permanently banned by his taste buds.

“We’re going to have to look up a list of banned foods. No sushi for you,” Matthew said, turning to give him a wink and a smile before getting back to what he was doing.

Will wrinkled his nose at that. “Yeah, like I’m in any danger of eating raw fish anytime soon. Not to mention the quality of sushi that you can get in Virginia is suspect at best.”

“Still. We’ll have to find out what else you can’t have.”

Will made a slight face, taking another sip of his coffee, and Matthew lightly laughed at his expression before turning back to the stove. “How about pancakes, bacon, and home fries?” he asked, looking at Will again, who nodded.

“Sounds great,” he said, and Matthew smiled, setting to work.

Like this, in such a domestic setting, he could almost believe it would be alright. That Matthew would eventually forgive him when he found out about Hannibal, what had occurred between them. That even if the child was Hannibal’s, Matthew would forgive him for his indiscretions, and raise the child as if it was his own. But that was a dream, wishful thinking. In truth, he had no idea what Matthew would do when he found out, and the thought was terrifying.

He had no excuse for his actions. All he could say was that he was in heat and Hannibal’s scent had calmed him, soothed him, tricked him into it, but even that would wound Matthew. Because Hannibal’s scent shouldn’t have had that effect on him, he should have instantly shied away from it because it wasn’t the scent of the Alpha that he was bonded to. The fact that Hannibal’s scent still had that effect on him was troubling, to say the least.

So as he watched Matthew putter around the kitchen, humming to himself and clearly delighted with life at the moment, he was nearly drowning in guilt, a pressure appearing in his chest that refused to go away no matter what he did. There was nothing that could ease it, because there was no way to ease his guilt, not without telling Matthew what had happened, and he wasn’t ready to do that yet. If he got lucky and the child was Matthew’s, he’d never have to tell him. But he just couldn’t convince himself that it was Matthew’s.

***

“Alright, ready to see what your baby looks like?”

The technician was so friendly as she smiled at him, but Will’s nerves were fluttering in his chest, his grip tight on Matthew’s hand, who was trying to soothe him, chuckling lightly. “Relax, babe, it’s just an ultrasound,” he said, his tone light, amused, and Will nodded, taking a deep breath to try to relax.

“Are you going to want to know the sex of the baby?” the technician asked, friendly as always, nearly chipper in a way that grated slightly against Will’s anxiety.

“No, we want to keep it a surprise,” Matthew said, smiling right back at her because he was so clearly excited about this, nearly bouncing in his seat next to Will. It would have made Will smile under any other circumstances. As it was, it made him feel a little sick, because despite the fact that he was now at sixteen weeks, his pregnancy starting to show in the slight swell of his belly, he still hadn’t told Matthew about Hannibal. And wasn’t sure when he would.

“Okey dokey.” She squeezed some of the conductive jelly over his abdomen, causing him to wiggle slightly at the cool feeling of it against his warm skin. “Just relax, it’ll only take a little while,” the technician said, giving him a smile before she turned to look at the ultrasound screen. Both he and Matthew turned with her, waiting for a picture to show up, Matthew eagerly, Will with a little bit of dread.

Though it was hard to not have a little bit of excitement; after all, he was going to be a parent! Something that he’d wanted all his life, and thought he was incapable of, and now was going to have, as many complications came with it. It was hard to quell the little sprig of excitement starting in the same stomach that was now covered in the gel as they all waited patiently for an image to come up. But what he saw, he didn’t expect at all.

“Oh my god, is that—” Matthew couldn’t even get the words out, too surprised to properly form them.

The ultrasound technician turned to smile at both of them, a spark of delight in it. “Yep, you’re seeing that right. You’re going to have twins!”

“Oh my god.” Matthew looked too stunned to speak, and Will felt his heartbeat pick up in his chest, nearly galloping away as he looked at the ultrasound with wide eyes. Twins. Oh god, _twins_. He was going to have beautiful twin babies, both of them hopefully coming out happy and healthy. God, he could hardly believe it, and the brilliant smile that he gave Matthew was 100% genuine, his joy overwhelming the fear twisting sickly in his stomach for the moment. Matthew leaned in to kiss him, keeping it short, chaste, and Will kissed back for the brief moment that their lips were in contact.

“Twins!” Matthew said excitedly as he pulled back, and Will laughed lightly at how enthused he was, how undeniably ecstatic about the news. He couldn’t stop talking about it, either, not even when they walked back out to the car, Will sliding into the passenger seat and still feeling slightly sticky despite the fact that they’d wiped off all of the gel afterwards. Matthew continued to talk about it the whole way home, chatting excitedly about a nursery and getting two cribs and telling _everyone_. And Will smiled and nodded along, though his own excitement was fading fast with every minute that passed by in the car, giving way to a sickly fear.

He hadn’t heard anything from Hannibal in weeks, ever since their…time together. The FBI hadn’t heard anything either, no more bodies appearing, the killing having stopped for the time being. But Will knew it was only a matter of time before it picked up again, before Hannibal asked for his attention once more. And he absolutely couldn’t succumb to the request, not now when his pregnancy was just starting to show. He could still hide it underneath loose shirts and the like, but it was April now, so jackets were right out of the question and his clothes were moving into warmer weather, meaning it was harder to hide. So no, he couldn’t see Hannibal, not when he was this pregnant. Or at all, actually, not until after the baby was born, and even then the extra weight from the pregnancy would give him away. So no seeing Hannibal period, then.

Not that he wanted to. No, god no, he wanted nothing to do with him, wanted to forget that this whole mess had happened, despite the evidence growing in his uterus. Though he still didn’t know whose baby it was, and was honestly too afraid to find out. Because what the fuck was he going to do if it was Hannibal’s baby? He couldn’t deal with that, couldn’t handle it if Hannibal was the father. It was just…it was just too much. He was hoping beyond hope that it was Matthew’s, but honestly, he just didn’t truly believe it. And he wasn’t ready to find out.

***

He hadn’t expected anyone from the FBI to show up at his door, not when there hadn’t been any sign of Hannibal recently, but he opened his door a few days after his ultrasound to find Beverly Katz on the other side, who invited himself in.

“Congratulations on being preggers, by the way,” she said as she came into the room, Will watching her as she looked around the room, pushing his glasses up.

“Thanks. I take it that’s not why you’re here, though. Is this Jack’s attempt to win me over? Send you over so I don’t have to deal with him personally?”

She snorted at that, eyes returning to him. “Yeah, sounds about right.” She nodded to his stomach under the thin fabric of his t shirt, which was being stretched just a bit too far. If someone didn’t know he was pregnant, it could almost be passed off as just a little extra fat, as it hadn’t started taking on that perfectly round shape of pregnancy yet, and wouldn’t for a little while yet. Couple more weeks. “How are the little ones? Twins, right?”

“Yes, as Matthew has been so enthusiastically telling the world. You can sit down, if you want,” he said, gesturing towards one of the dog hair-covered chairs in the living room, and Beverly wrinkled her nose slightly.

“No thanks, won’t be here long,” she said, turning back to him. “Jack just wanted me to tell you about a recent catch we had that ties into a missing person’s case.”

“What does that have to do with me?” he asked, brow furrowed over sea blue eyes.

“He thinks it might be a Ripper kill, but the missing person’s part doesn’t make sense.”

Will moved to take a seat in one of the chairs, sitting on the edge of it to look at Beverly, who took a few steps further towards him. “Tell me about it, then. I don’t suppose Jack will be satisfied unless you actually manage to talk to me about it.”

“Yeah, pretty much. It’s some guy named Garrett Jacob Hobbes? Apparently—and we found this out after the fact—he’s been killing young girls and, well. Let’s not go into details. He was killed like a lot of the Ripper victims were, you know how, and trophies were even taken, his heart. And now his daughter, Abigail, is missing.”

Will froze where he sat, a cold rush moving through his veins and into his heart, making it stutter in its beat for a moment. “Did you say Abigail Hobbes?” he asked quietly, and Beverly nodded.

“Why, does that name mean something to you?” she asked, brow furrowing over chocolate eyes, and Will stood again, a little off balance and nearly falling back into the chair. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m—I’m fine. Tell Jack that I’ll take a look at the file on it but I won’t visit the crime scene.” There was a slight tremor in his voice, nearly undetectable, but there all the same, and Bev raised an eyebrow, seeming to catch it.

“He thought you might say that, so here,” she said, pulling a file out of the bag she was carrying and handing it over to him. “You can call either of us to pick it back up and tell us what you think. And Will?”

“Yes?” he said, looking up from the file in his hands to look at her for a moment.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” She seemed to judge him for a moment, sizing him up to see whether or not he was okay enough that she could leave, and then she nodded, and headed out the door with a call of, “I’ll talk to you soon,” over her shoulder.

Will returned to the kitchen numbly, staring down at the file in his hand and nearly tripping over a few of the dogs that were swimming around his ankles, excited by the fact that they had had a guest. He sat down heavily at the table, watching the file like he expected it to suddenly reach out and bite him, before he sighed, and opened it, beginning to read.


	7. Missive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will finds a message from Hannibal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally the only reason why this chapter even took this long is that I spent the weekend (Saturday to Monday) with my girlfriend in Boston, otherwise this would have been done hella fast. But hey, it's done!

He pored over the file for hours. Examined every detail in turn, gave each part of the case his undivided attention as he looked at photographs and diagrams and the medical examiner’s report. Garrett Jacob Hobbes had been massacred, brutally torn apart and displayed like his victims, splayed out on a stag’s head in the middle of his kitchen. Mrs. Hobbes had been killed much more simply, her throat slit after she presumably answered the door. Abigail had been in the kitchen, with her father, had probably watched her father being killed. God, Hannibal. She didn’t deserve that.

But it hadn’t been meant to hurt her, it’d been meant to hurt Will. Hannibal knew, God he knew, and there was no escaping this one. This was purposely meant to send a message to him, show him the knowledge that Hannibal had. Show him just how betrayed he felt, how hurt he was by Will’s actions. But what the fuck else had he been supposed to do? At the time, he hadn’t had any other options, Hannibal didn’t understand that. Or perhaps he did, and was still taking it out on Will anyway. That was always a possibility, considering how vindictive the other man was, despite his claims otherwise. Hannibal had a tendency to believe he was more magnanimous than he was.

Fuck. What the fuck was he supposed to do? This was clearly more than a request from Hannibal, it was a demand. There was a very large chance that if he didn’t acquiesce and find a way to meet Hannibal, talk this over with him, no one would ever see Abigail again. But considering how far along he was, nearly seventeen weeks now, he couldn’t see Hannibal, he absolutely couldn’t. Hannibal would immediately know, be able to spot the belly that was steadily turning into a smooth curve, and then all bets would be off. Will’s pants were already getting tight, he’d have to switch to an elastic band on his jeans soon or simply wear sweatpants all the time, which he did every time he set foot in the house, anyway. It was getting to be the time for maternity clothes, even his loosest t-shirts getting a bit too tight, but he didn’t want to make the jump until he absolutely had to.

Right now he was still trying to hide it as best he could, but his students had already started to notice, though none of them had pointed anything out or asked any questions. And if a bunch of vapid twenty somethings were noticing—though, to be fair, they were in FBI training, so they were _usually_ less vapid than others—then someone as sharp and keenly observant as Hannibal was bound to notice. Especially considering how focused he was on Will whenever he saw him. Hannibal’s eyes almost never left him when they were in the same room together, and he’d notice Will’s swelling belly immediately if they were together. He wouldn’t, couldn’t write it off as just gained weight, though Will would be desperate to pretend it was such. He’d know.

And how would Hannibal react to finding out that Will was not only pregnant, but with twins, no less? Currently genderless twins, but that wouldn’t matter to Hannibal. What would matter was that Will was potentially—almost definitely, that unhelpful voice in the back of his head whispered—carrying his children. And hadn’t told him. And there would be the main sticking point, considering the other things Will hadn’t told Hannibal about that he’d apparently found out about on his own. It’d be seen as another betrayal, and almost worse this time, because Will didn’t have an excuse for hiding it that didn’t boil down to the fact that he didn’t want Hannibal in his life, didn’t want him involved with the twins. He was determined, he knew that he had to tell Matthew and he was planning on doing it, and he could only cross his fingers and hope for the best possible turnout for the situation. Pray that Matthew forgave him and decided to raise the twins with him, no matter whose they turned out to be. Maybe they wouldn’t even have to test. Maybe Matthew would decide he was better off not knowing unless they grew into distinct features of whoever the father was, and Will could avoid seeing the heartbreak that would come if Matthew found out for certain that they were Hannibal’s. That was the hope, at least.

The reality was that even with his empathy, he couldn’t tell ahead of time how Matthew was going to react. What he would do upon finding out. Will had betrayed him in the worst of ways, and he had no excuse for what he did. He wouldn’t blame Matthew if he decided to leave, even though Will was pregnant, with twins, no less. He would be well within his rights to do it, considering what Will had done, but god did Will hope that it wouldn’t come down to that. Not just because he didn’t want to raise the kids on his own, but also because he wasn’t sure that he could handle losing Matthew after so long together and with how strong the bond was between them. Not strong enough, apparently, considering he’d slept with Hannibal. Fuck. If he’d just had a little fucking self-control, this would have never happened. He probably wouldn’t be pregnant, he and Matthew would be childless, yes, but Hannibal wouldn’t have managed to worm his way back into Will’s life, possibly into his womb as well, and therefore into his future.

He had to tell Matthew soon. The further he got into the pregnancy, the worse the blow would be, and he was already nearly seventeen weeks along. With each passing week it would just get worse and worse and worse until the guilt crushed him and made him vomit out the words, spill them out for Matthew, who would do with them what he would. In the meantime Will could only pray for a good outcome, and hope that Matthew was as forgiving as he’d always seemed.

For now, though, he shut the case file with a sigh, rubbing his eyes as he tried to get over the overwhelming fatigue that was crashing into him in one whole wave, washing him up onto shore and leaving him lying against the sand, exhausted. The worst part of his pregnancy so far, aside from the morning sickness—which was a lying name, as it could hit him any time of the day or night—was the fatigue, honestly. Considering that he couldn’t just drink cup upon cup of caffeine to combat it, he was on his own with it, constantly almost nodding off in the middle of lectures and coming home and immediately napping, or just going to bed for the night. He always felt tired, though today the adrenaline from learning about the Hobbes family had kept him more alert than usual for long enough for him to actually look at the case file in detail. Now that that had worn off, however, he was ready to go to bed, tired from the day and crashing from the adrenaline high he’d been on.

He looked up at the clock, frowning when he saw what time it was. Matthew should have been home by now. Normally, he wouldn’t worry, but normally there wasn’t a psychopathic killer on the loose who would like nothing more than to have Will to himself. Though for some reason, Hannibal hadn’t even made a threat towards Matthew’s life. Probably because he wanted Will to come to him willingly, of his own accord, and knew that if he killed Matthew, Will would never forgive him, and certainly never come to him on his own. Though how Hannibal ever expected him to come to him was beyond him.

Well, not completely, considering how Will had already submitted to his wishes once and slept with him without meaning to at all. Well. He’d known what he was doing at the time, he’d just been too enticed by his heat and Hannibal’s scent to resist. And god, he’d fucked up. He’d fucked up so badly that it was all he could think about anymore, that and the two lives growing inside of him. Because of course, of _course_ he was going to worry about his two little babies before they were even born. Any expecting mother would, and he was no exception. He hadn’t had any scares yet, nothing to make him really worry about the health of the babies, and the ultrasound had been completely normal, nothing surprising except for the fact that there were two babies where there should have been one. So he wasn’t overly concerned about them, more worried about their potential fathers. And how that was going to end.

Fuck. He got up from the table, swaying slightly as he stood, a bit of dizziness and nausea overcoming him, and put a hand on his growing stomach, trying to soothe out the ill feeling as his other hand picked up his phone to call Matthew. He glanced down at the file as the phone rang, flipping it back open and glancing at the contents as he waited for Matthew to pick up. His eyes widened as he stopped on one of the pictures, eyes moving rapidly as they took in information that he’d already seen before but apparently not processed. Something small, something that the FBI would probably miss on their examination of the crime scene, or even if they did notice, be unable to make any sense out of it. But Will could, because it’d been left for him. A message, telling him exactly when and where Hannibal wanted to meet.

He hardly noticed that the phone rang out without Matthew answering until he heard the beep of Matthew’s answering machine and hung up, not feeling the need to leave a message. He was sure that Matthew had probably just been caught up at work, considering that he had a tendency to stay late if they really needed his help at the hospital, and would be home soon. In the meantime he made his way to the bathroom, shutting the dogs out and sitting down on the edge of the tub, hand rubbing his stomach as he still tried to soothe out the nausea that was churning there. If he threw up, it wouldn’t be the first time, but he was desperately hoping to avoid that. Maybe a bath would help.

He got up, starting up the water in the tub and testing it with his hand to make sure it was heating up. It felt blissfully warm, and he felt a bit better at the thought of doing something relaxing, something that could maybe take away some of the tension that had entered his body at the discovery of Hannibal’s message to him. It could serve a dual purpose; relax him, and hopefully ease the nausea developing in his stomach.

The water continued to run as he slowly stripped, moving carefully because he didn’t want to upset his stomach any more than it was already upset. After a few minutes, he eased into the tub, sinking into the hot water and relaxing, some of the tension he’d been holding finally easing at the feeling of the warmth and heat of the water washing over him. He turned off the faucet when the water level was high enough, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the tub edge and wall behind it.

The message from Hannibal had been so simple. So clean, so easily done, because of course he’d been smart enough to find a way to get into contact with Will that wouldn’t jeopardize his own safety or the sanctity of the designated meeting place. The calendar on the fridge near where Garrett Jacob Hobbes had been shot. Flipped to the next month, a date circled on it with the simple word ‘LA’ written on it. A message that no one else would be able to get without knowing the meaning behind the letters, the history that Hannibal was referencing. Hannibal wanted to meet at that date, in Louisiana, in Will’s childhood home, no doubt. He knew that for certain, as that was the only way that the message could be interpreted.

But the date had been weeks from now. Three, actually, meaning that Will would be twenty weeks along, and there was no way that he could hide the pregnancy then. Hannibal would know as soon as he saw him, and god, that was a terrifying thought that he didn’t even want to consider. He didn’t want to think about any of this right now, just wanted to relax, ease back, let himself finally get some much needed rest, a break from all of the thoughts that were plaguing him constantly.

He sunk down a bit more in the water, languidly stroking his stomach and keeping his eyes closed, the hot water doing its job as he began to relax more and more, getting sleepier and sleepier, until he began to doze without realizing what he was doing.

***

_He was in the woods. Barefoot, in his boxer briefs and a t shirt that strained slightly, covering a belly that was much fuller than it should have been. It felt full to bursting, like he was going to give birth any second, and he could feel the twins moving, twitching, kicking against him. He looked down at his stomach, pressing both hands against it, and imagined he could feel twin heartbeats beating back against his palms._

_But he and the twins weren’t alone. There was something else there, something swimming through the darkness on the fringes of the clearing he was in, weaving in between the trees and occasionally flashing a glimpse of dark eyes. He froze where he stood, watching the thing as best he could, though it was difficult when it blended into the background of the dark woods. Dark, dark, incredibly dark, there were no stars out and he could barely see anything around him, even his hand in front of his face. So it was nearly impossible to keep his eyes on the thing moving through the darkness, and he gave up after a minute, closing his eyes._

_A moment later he felt something cold brush up against his arm, then again on the other side. He took a step back, away from it as best he could, and thudded against a strong, firm chest behind him. Arms were wrapped around him, a warm embrace as hands began to gently stroke along his stomach, and he relaxed under the touch, the familiar, comforting scent that was wrapping itself around him along with those strong arms. He leaned back against the person behind him, relaxing as he was gently pet, like a dog under its owner’s hand. Only he wasn’t sure what owner this was, in this case._

_After a moment, he felt a soft kiss to his lips, and nearly opened his eyes, brow furrowing in confusion as he realized that that wasn’t possible with things as they were. Unless someone else was in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, even as a third hand was gently placed on his cheek, stroking it carefully._

_“He’s coming along nicely,” came a familiar voice from behind him._

_“He’ll be there soon,” was murmured by another familiar voice, and Will knew what he would see before he opened his eyes to find a pair of reassuring green eyes in front of him. Which meant that behind him was…_

_Hannibal leaned in to sniff at the curve of where Will’s neck met his shoulder before he nuzzled in, pressing a soft kiss to the same spot. Matthew leaned in for another soft kiss, and for a moment Will found himself drowning in affection, eyes slipping shut again under the force of love that was surrounding him. But still that thing circled in the darkness, and he was constantly aware of it, even as he relaxed under the kisses and the hands stroking his stomach gently, reverently._

_He opened his eyes again as Matthew pulled back, placing a hand on his stomach as well and smiling as he felt the baby kick. “Mine,” he said softly, and leaned down to place a kiss on Will’s far too swollen belly._

_“Ours,” Hannibal seemed to remind gently, his breath warm against Will’s ear as he placed a kiss along the shell of it._

_Will didn’t touch in return, didn’t reach out for either of them, his eyes sharp as he looked out into the darkness for the thing that was still steadily circling, moving in and out, weaving in between the trees and occasionally growling now, the sound getting closer and closer, it seemed._

_“Matthew,” Will started in a warning tone, his eyes following the thing as it gave a particularly loud growl, a cold breeze seeming to go through the clearing. “Matthew please.”_

_But Matthew wasn’t looking at him, was preoccupied with his stomach and the babies that were moving and kicking, the babies that Will suddenly felt were in very great danger. “He doesn’t see it, Will,” Hannibal murmured gently in his ear, and Will nearly shivered. “He doesn’t understand the darkness that’s lurking in your mind, the things that you could never share with him. He doesn’t understand you like I do.” This sentence was finished with a kissed pressed to the back of his neck, and abruptly Will pulled away from both of them, moving towards the edge of the clearing, the thing in the darkness pausing and turning blank, dark eyes on him. He stepped towards it, dry leaves crunching under his bare feet as he stepped right up to it, looking it in the eyes, his hands placed protectively over his stomach. Over the twins._

_“I’m not afraid of you,” he said, his voice low, but firm. The thing growled loudly, clearly  displeased with this statement, and Will stared very firmly into eyes that appeared black, but were actually a deep, deep red the closer he got. Like Hannibal’s eyes, in a way, and a shiver nearly ran through him at the thought. He dared to glance behind himself, seeing that the clearing was now empty, just him and the thing left in it. And when he turned around, the thing wasn’t there anymore._

_No. He took a look around, quickly, quickly, quickly, but it wasn’t until the last second that he saw it lash out for him, sucking him in and swallowing him whole, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe—_

“Will!”

Will woke up with a start, spluttering as he shifted up in the tub, out of the water that had been starting to cover his nose and mouth. He coughed for a minute, someone’s hand on his back, and then turned to find Matthew kneeling by the side of his tub, only concern in those green eyes as he watched Will, his hand the one on Will’s back. The water in the tub was room temperature now, and as he looked down at his hands, he saw that the skin was wrinkled, pruning from how long it’d been in the water, though he didn’t know how long that was. Apparently, however, he’d fallen asleep somewhere along the way.

“You’re home,” he said quietly after a moment, and Matthew gave an exasperated sigh, looking down at the ground before his eyes flashed back up to Will’s.

“You nearly drown in the tub and that’s what you’re going to say? ‘You’re home’?” he asked, and Will looked down at the water for a moment, eyes skipping away from Matthew’s. “Will, you can’t fall asleep while taking a bath, you could have died if I hadn’t come home when I did.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Will mumbled, looking numbly into the water that his body was still submerged in, his pregnant belly looking distorted under the water, a fun house effect.

Matthew sighed again, resting his forehead against the edge of the tub. After a minute, he lifted his head again, looking at Will. “Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he said, standing up and moving to grab a towel for Will. Will stood up slowly, pulling the plug out of the bottom of the bathtub, and let himself drip into the tub for a minute before accepting the towel from Matthew.

“What time is it, anyway?” he asked, and Matthew glanced down at his watch.

“It’s almost two in the morning,” he said, and gave Will another concerned look. “You must have been in there for hours.”

Will’s brow furrowed over tired cerulean eyes as he dried himself off. “Why were you home so late?”

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” Matthew said, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else because Will needed to get to bed, and now.

So Will didn’t bother asking anything else, instead wrapping the towel around himself and following Matthew to the bedroom, where he put on a pair of boxer briefs and a t shirt that was getting to be too tight before slipping into bed, the soft mattress feeling like heaven at the moment. Matthew stripped down and put on a pair of sweatpants before joining him in bed, shutting off the lamp by the side of the bed. He lay on his side by Will, and Will expected him to stroke his stomach gently, as he was so fond of doing, or press a soft goodnight kiss to his stomach, then his lips, something else he was fond of doing.

But he did neither. Instead, he stared directly into Will’s eyes for a minute, a piercing look coming into them as his inner hawk came out in full force. Will simply looked back at him, brow furrowed slightly at the sudden scrutiny, but relaxed when Matthew dropped his gaze, looking down at Will’s stomach and reaching a hand out to gently pet it. Will closed his eyes underneath the contact, enjoying the careful petting, and soon enough dropped off to sleep. And for once, he didn’t dream.

 

 


	8. Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, I'm so sorry that it took this long to get such a short chapter to you, but I've been working on other things and life got in the way and etc. Don't worry, next chapter will come out quicker and be much longer, I just had to get back into the swing of things. Enjoy!

Matthew dropped the manila envelope down on the table just as Will took his first sip of coffee, decaf, of course, for the babies. He gave Matthew a questioning look, but his husband didn’t say a word, going to the fridge to start making breakfast. So, with hesitant hands, Will picked up the envelope, reaching inside to pick up a stack of photos, his eyes getting wider and wider as he flipped through them. After a minute, he set them back down, staring into his coffee cup—black, a few sugars—as he swallowed thickly, trying to find the proper words, the ones that would make everything alright.

“How did you get these?” he asked after a minute, looking up at Matthew, who was busy heating up a pan on the stove, melting a pat of butter in it.

“Freddie Lounds,” he answered, the name short, clipped. His displeasure was obvious in his tone, but Will really couldn’t blame him in this case. He’d expected full out anger, yelling, maybe, screaming, even, but Matthew was always carefully controlled, a tight spring wound up and unable to release, because he wouldn’t let himself. “She’s apparently been tailing you for a while now.”

Fuck. He should have known, honestly, that someone was following him, but he’d honestly been so distracted by worrying about the future that he hadn’t even paid a thought to it. Jesus Christ. He rested his elbow against the table, putting his hand on his forehead as he stared down at the grain of the wood that made up the table. “Has she given these to the FBI?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know, and I don’t particularly care.”

Will sighed, looking up at Matthew again, who was determinedly not looking at him. “Matthew, I can explain,” he said, and Matthew turned to him, a fire in his eyes.

“Explain? What is there to explain, Will? You met up with Hannibal Lecter, didn’t report his location to the FBI, and then _fucked_ him.” Will winced at the word ‘fucked’, eyes dropping away from Matthew again. “Clearly what you two had is still going, and I’m just in the way.”

“Matthew, it isn’t like that,” Will said, a sigh on the tail end of the words. He didn’t know how to make this right, how to make it better, and he was drowning in guilt, a similar feeling to when he’d actually almost drowned last night. His chest hurt, his breathing in a short, stressed pattern, and he could hardly draw a full breath of air. God, he just wanted to make this better, make it right, but he couldn’t, fuck, he couldn’t because he’d fucked up so badly and now Matthew was going to leave him and he’d have to choose between going back to Hannibal or raising these babies on his own and he was going to lose his husband of so many years and he was just going to collapse and break apart, liable to fall to pieces any minute because he couldn’t handle it, couldn’t fucking handle it—

He didn’t realize he was hyperventilating for a minute until Matthew said softly, “Will.” He snapped out of it, looking up at Matthew with lost blue eyes, who had apparently approached while he was thinking himself in circles, making himself dizzy with the never ending downward spiral of thoughts that was currently consuming his brain.

“It isn’t like that,” he repeated past the uneven, ragged breathing that was making his lungs hurt. “I want to be with you, I want to stay bonded to you, Hannibal was just a mistake. Somehow he induced my heat early and I couldn’t stop myself. I know that’s no excuse, and I’m so fucking sorry for what I did, but I don’t know what to tell you, Matthew. I just want to be with you. Please don’t leave me.”

He was starting to cry a little bit, the hormones from his pregnancy making everything worse as he was already panicking, already having trouble breathing, let alone thinking. Matthew sighed, taking another step forward and crouching down in front of Will. “I’m not going to leave you,” he said softly. “I’m angry, yes, god, I’m fucking furious, but I’m not going to leave you. I can’t.” His voice was much gentler than it should have been, and Will couldn’t look away from those oh so calming green eyes, finding that his breathing was slowly starting to calm down despite the fact that he was still terrified, still waiting breathlessly to make sure that Matthew really meant it. But Matthew wouldn’t lie to him, Matthew never lied to him, knew how important it was to have honesty and trust in their relationship after what had happened with Hannibal initially. So he wouldn’t lie about this, right? Right. Right. Okay.

He found it in himself to take a deep breath, Matthew watching the steady motion of his chest carefully, and then released it in an exhale as Matthew gently rubbed his chest with his hand to try to help him breathe a little easier. “Okay,” he said after a minute, eyes still on Matthew. Matthew, who wasn’t leaving, who was the best thing to happen to him in the world and he’d almost thrown it all away because of Hannibal. Who he still had to meet up with at some point, but Matthew definitely couldn’t know about that. God, he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing anymore. What he was going to do, what he could do when Hannibal no doubt had Abigail hostage and he _knew_ , god he knew what Will had been hiding all these years. What Matthew knew, and a few others that had been directly involved in it. But that was about it. His father had known, before he died. And he’d been so furious.

“Will,” Matthew said, drawing Will’s attention back to him, a hesitancy in his voice. “Do you know whose babies you’re carrying?”

Will shook his head, though he was almost certain by now that he did know. Luck had never been on his side in any of this, and that meant coincidences didn’t just happen to him. Not lucky ones, anyway, and this would have to be a monumentally lucky one. But he wasn’t about to tell Matthew that. If Matthew wanted to believe that they were his, then he could, Will wouldn’t do anything to dispel him of that notion, because it’d break his heart to even try. No, as far as he was concerned, these babies _were_ Matthew’s. Matthew was certainly going to be the one to raise them with him. Unless Hannibal interfered first.

“Okay,” Matthew said, nodding slowly as he seemed to consider it. After a minute, those forest green eyes flashed back up to Will’s, and he said, “I don’t want to know whose they are.”

Will nodded, relieved that Matthew didn’t want to know, because honestly, he was afraid of breaking his heart. Afraid of the truth that only DNA tests would reveal, that he wouldn’t be able to face. If they were Hannibal’s…no, he wasn’t going to think about that. He had to focus on Matthew right now, on Matthew and the words that he was saying that were a balm to Will’s frantic mind. “Okay,” he said quietly, and Matthew looked at him for a moment more before pulling away, something in Will’s heart panging as he felt the absence of Matthew’s usual affection. But he had earned that. That slight bit of coldness from him, the delicate touch of Matthew’s fury that gently raked cold nails across the back of his neck, ice dripping down his spine. Eventually, he’d earn that affection back, but for now he was just going to have to accept that Matthew was going to be a bit distant, and that it was well-earned. He needed time to deal with everything, to make peace with what his husband had done to him and the consequences thereof. Will could give him that.

Matthew returned to the stove to start making breakfast, and Will sipped at his decaf coffee, staring at the pile of pictures of him and Hannibal that apparently Freddie Lounds was responsible for. He still had yet to meet her in person, but apparently this was the kind of reporter that she was. And he was just praying to god that she hadn’t turned these over to the FBI because god, he wouldn’t be able to face Alana or Jack or Beverly ever again, wouldn’t even be able to go in to teach his class. He’d have to retire and retreat into hiding, never able to face the world knowing about his sins. But oh, they would know if he ran off with Hannibal or Hannibal kidnapped him, as he was afraid would happen when they met again. But he didn’t have any choice but to go, meet with him in an effort to prevent him from hurting Abigail.

Fuck. How had he found out? How did he know about what happened, about what Will had done? Oh god, Will was afraid, Hannibal always one of the only things that could make him truly, genuinely afraid. Something about Hannibal brought him back to that scared eighteen year-old who had found his lover with blood on his hands and a far too calm expression for what he was doing. Will was always going to be that boy when it came down to it, when it involved Hannibal. Matthew had seen it clear as day in his eyes after Hannibal first appeared in their kitchen that night, and he could probably see it now if he bothered to look for it. But he seemed a little wrapped up in his own world, and Will couldn’t blame him for that. Between Will’s betrayal and the perpetual reminder of the twins that he was carrying—which Matthew was now in doubt were his—not to mention the psychopathic killer on the loose that had tried and succeeded to reconnect with Will, he had plenty to worry about. And Will was the cause of it all. For fuck’s sake.

Matthew was busy with his cooking and Will stood, rubbing his growing belly with his hand as he set his coffee cup down, slipping out of the room, the Alpha, for once, not using his keen senses to detect Will leaving. Or maybe he noticed and just didn’t say anything; in either case, Will was free to head quietly back upstairs, stripping off his shirt as he went. He tossed it in the hamper in the bathroom, his boxers joining it shortly as he turned on the water to the shower, turning it up high. After his time with the bath last night, he wouldn’t be taking a bath for quite a while, and besides, he just wanted a quick shower to try to wash off the feeling of wrongdoing lingering on his skin. Being confronted like that by Matthew had shaken him, made him feel dirty, remembering the careful and gentle touches of Hannibal and the way his voice had murmured so sweetly to him.

God, no, he couldn’t think of that again. He stepped under the hot spray of the shower, letting it fall directly on his face for a moment as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to put everything out of mind for a little while, just a little while. Matthew was on his way to forgiving him. Matthew wasn’t going to leave, was going to stay and help him raise the twins. And now he didn’t have to worry about telling him, because he already knew. That was sort of a relief, wasn’t it?

But there was still the meeting with Hannibal looming in the back of his mind, occasionally stealing the spotlight before he pushed it back into place again. Where it belonged, at the very back of his mind, hidden in the shadows until he would be forced to face it. He had to go. He didn’t have a choice, knew that he didn’t. Abigail’s life was in danger, and while he’d usually risk his own, he wouldn’t risk hers or the lives of his unborn children. And once Hannibal found out about the twins, he wouldn’t either.

Jesus. Hannibal was really going to find out, wasn’t he? He was going to see Will’s pregnancy, Will wouldn’t be able to hide it when they saw each other in just a few weeks. Will stroked a hand over his stomach, the curve that was beginning to develop, currently at the point where it just seemed like extra weight and not quite like a pregnancy. The last thing he wanted was for Hannibal to realize what was going on, but it was really unavoidable, because his meeting with him was unavoidable. God, when had things become this convoluted, this screwed up? Honestly, he’d been doomed to this since he was eighteen, making a mistake with a much older man that he didn’t realize was a mistake. He hadn’t known, then, that things would turn out even remotely like this. He hadn’t known about Hannibal’s true nature, had only known that Hannibal made him feel good and whispered such sweet promises that he wanted to believe. He’d told Will they’d be together forever, that next time it would come with a bonding bite, but none of that had been true. And honestly, thank god it hadn’t been. Will would rather have the mess he was in now than be bonded permanently to Hannibal, whether or not he knew what Hannibal was in this alternate reality. Either way, he’d rather be with Matthew.

But Hannibal seemed determined to take all of that away from him, and Will wasn’t sure what to do anymore. He was supposed to be smarter than this, but he was so tired all the time and his emotions were going haywire and it was all he could do to focus on his pregnancy and Matthew and try to sort out this mess with Hannibal some other time, when he could actually goddamn think for once. Which was never.

He washed himself up slowly, taking his time with it even though this was meant to be a quick shower before breakfast was ready, but Matthew never knocked on the door. After he was done, he got out, drying off and holding the towel wrapped around his waist, though it was straining against his stomach a bit. Something that he didn’t notice that much, as he left the bathroom to go into the bedroom, hunting around for clean clothes that still fit. Which limited his options severely.

“Matthew,” he called after a few minutes, a few t-shirts strewn on the bed as he stared down into the top drawer of their bureau as if more clothes would magically appear in it, and a minute later Matthew poked his head into the room.

“Yes?” he asked, and Will turned to him, exasperation clear in his features.

“None of these fit.”

Matthew stepped into the room, coming over to the bed to look at the t-shirts that he’d discarded, holding a few up and looking between them and Will as if to mentally measure them. “Okay,” he said after a minute, looking at Will again as he tossed the latest t-shirt down. “Do you think there might be something that fits you in the basement?”

“You mean from my dad’s clothes? We gave most of those away.”

“Yes, but I think we still have a box or two. We just need something for you to wear so we can go out and pick up some maternity clothes for you.”

Will nodded, looking at the shirts on the bed. “Okay. You’re busy, I can go look,” he said, eyes returning to Matthew’s, and Matthew nodded, giving him a brief, flitting smile before heading out of the room again. Once he was gone, Will leaned over to place his forehead down on top of the bureau, gently knocking his head against the wood. Twenty three more weeks to go.


	9. Congress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will starts running out of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I'd be updating again shortly! Here, have some happy smut. *throws confetti*

If there was any positive to be had in this situation, it was that shopping for maternity clothes seemed to lift Matthew’s spirits, return him a bit to that excited state he’d been in originally when he’d heard about the twins. True, at first that darkness had lingered in his eyes, the storm clouds of his anger visible, but they began to dissipate as they wandered the store, Will tsking and muttering to himself about the lack of selection for male Omegas, until finally Matthew started chuckling, causing Will to look at him in surprise.

“What?” he asked, almost defensively.

Matthew shook his head, smiling at him for a moment, and Will felt a bit self-conscious, knowing the development of his stomach was still showing through the oversized flannel shirt he was wearing, one of his father’s from before he died that he’d managed to find in a box downstairs. He’d thought that they’d gotten rid of all of those boxes, but it was likely that one or two had slipped through the cracks. Or maybe Matthew had saved them, figuring he’d want at least some sign of his father. Either way, it was good that they’d had them because it was all that would fit him, and as it was, the rolled-up sleeves kept trying to slip down his arms and he’d mostly given up on them, hoping to find some new, actually made for maternity as soon as possible. But the selection here was atrocious.

“It’s just funny. We’re in a store entirely devoted to maternity clothes and you can’t find anything you like,” Matthew said, some amusement in his tone.  
Will huffed. “It’s devoted to maternity clothes, not male Omega maternity clothes,” he said, frustration bleeding into his voice. He picked up a nearby shirt, a black, frilly thing in a babydoll silhouette with tulle making up the bottom half of it, and held it up by the hanger to show Matthew. “What, would you like me to walk around wearing something like this? How can they even market this to men, just because we can bear children doesn’t mean that we want to dress like women.”

“Clothes are supposed to be gender neutral,” Matthew pointed out gently, and Will gave him a look before returning to browsing.  
“You know what I mean,” he said, putting the shirt back on its rack and picking up what looked like a plain t-shirt instead. When he turned it around, however, the back was bedazzled with the word ‘Expecting!” in bright pink. He made a face, putting it back, and Matthew laughed again, a good sound to hear from him. He seemed to have relaxed again, despite the fact that he still wasn’t giving Will the usual easy, unconscious affectionate touches that he had a habit of bestowing him with, keeping his arms folded against his chest as Will browsed among the racks. Still, he wasn’t completely closed off, which was good. More than good.

In the end, and with Matthew’s help, he found a few plain long-sleeved shirts, some basic tank tops and t-shirts, and even a couple of henleys, since April had been pretty cool so far. They picked out some jeans with elastic waists as well, figuring Will’s current sweatpants would do for now, at least. They could always buy more clothes later, perhaps online, someplace with more selection and less glitter.

“I know that I’m carrying children, but is it really that much to ask to be treated like a man?” Will grumbled as they made their way to the car, Matthew having insisted on carrying the bags, light as they were.

“The difference is that you want to be treated like a modern Omega and not a traditional one. Not all Omegas feel the same,” Matthew said as he climbed back into the driver’s seat, starting up the car.

Will shut the door to his side of the car, pulling his seat belt over himself, having to adjust it slightly over his burgeoning stomach as he made a face at Matthew’s words. “I don’t understand those Omegas. Why would you want to be treated like you’re in the past when back then, you had no rights? Or do they just conveniently forget about that part?”

“Conveniently forget about it, I’d say.”

Will made a noise of frustration as Matthew pulled out of the parking lot, heading back out onto the main road and back towards home. “I’m just glad I could find anything at all, considering how atrocious their selection was,” he grumbled, and Matthew smiled.

“Well, if you end up needing more or bigger sizes or something, we can always look online,” he said. “That way you have more options.”

“Good.” Will leaned back in his seat, bracing his elbow against the door and leaning his head against his hand as he looked out the window, the car falling into a silence that wasn’t really uncomfortable, though it probably should have been considering the circumstances. But there was always a certain level of ease with Matthew, a baseline of comfort that they always returned to, even if they were fighting or having a serious discussion with one another. Despite how monumentally Will had fucked up, they could still be together like this with a minimum of discomfort. Which was good, because Will’s stomach twisted itself into sick knots each time he remembered that Matthew knew about his transgressions. So, constantly.

When they arrived home, Will immediately went upstairs to get changed, pulling on one of the henleys because it was a cool in the house, though sunny outside, and immediately felt a bit better, finally having clothing that was meant to accommodate his growing stomach. As he was going through the bag, though, cutting off tags and putting things away, he came across something he didn’t remember buying, and turned to Matthew, who was putting away things as Will cut the tags off.

“And just what are these?” he asked, holding up the pair of lacy black panties that had somehow made their way into the bag, clearly made for the Omegas that preferred to be treated traditionally. Like they were prizes to be dressed up and shown off, pretty toys to be dressed in equally pretty things. Will had never worn anything like that in his life, and raised his eyebrows at Matthew, who was smirking.

“I thought they suited you,” he answered, something smug in his voice, and Will looked back at the panties again, then at Matthew, eyebrows shooting up higher. “Just try them on, maybe you’ll like them.”

“If I try them on, we can’t return them.”

Matthew smiled at him. “That’s the point.”

Will didn’t say anything, simply setting them aside on the bed for now and continuing to cut the tags off of the clothes in the bag, handing them to Matthew, who was sorting them as he went along and storing them in the dresser or tossing them in the hamper, though the whole process seemed arbitrary to Will, no rhyme or reason to how he was dividing things up. He let him be, though, eventually finishing and hanging the bag on the door to bring downstairs later, then returned to the bed, looking at the panties that he’d temporarily forgotten about. He picked them up again, examining the black lace and finding them pretty, though he wasn’t sure that they’d suit him at all. Wasn’t sure that he wanted them to suit him.

“Come on, just try them on,” Matthew said, his voice that insidious little murmur that only came when he really wanted something. Though why he wanted this, Will didn’t know, unless Matthew had always harbored a desire to see Will dressed in the more traditional way, lace and silks and pearls, and had simply never brought it up because he knew that Will wouldn’t be interested. Always wanted to go against the stereotypes of his gender, and so wouldn’t indulge his husband, or would do it begrudgingly. He wouldn’t be surprised, honestly; despite how progressive Matthew was, he was still an Alpha, and in every Alpha there was a desire to see their Omega that way, submerged in submissiveness and dressed up like a pretty present for them. So maybe Matthew felt the same.

And despite how Will felt about the trappings of a traditional Omega role, he was fine with doing this for Matthew, especially considering how much he owed him right now for not simply kicking him out when he found out about Hannibal. And besides that, he was a bit…intrigued. So he stripped off his clothes, dropping them on the floor for a moment, his boxer briefs last, and pulled the panties on. His first thought was that these were damn comfortable, and they really shouldn’t have been. The lace was soft, stretchy, and the panties were lined with some sort of silky soft material that he found was entirely too pleasant against his skin. They were made for Omegas, and specifically pregnant Omegas, so they accommodated him well and seemed to fit perfectly, Matthew knowing his size. He looked up to find Matthew’s eyes on him, and instantly felt a bit self-conscious, wearing only the panties and knowing that his stomach was currently an unattractive bulge that would only get bigger as the lives inside of him grew.

“You look beautiful,” Matthew said, voice almost reverent, his eyes worshipping Will in a way that made Will flush, shifting where he stood. He’d never wanted to dress like a typical Omega, and yet when he did…well, when he did his husband looked at him like he was a god and he himself felt self-conscious, but still comfortable, getting more confident the more that he saw how Matthew looked at him. Matthew stepped around the edge of the bed, moving towards him, and Will saw the intent in his eyes before he moved in to kiss him, lips delicate, careful, gentle. Like Will was something to be treated as precious, and not someone who had cheated on him with a psychopathic murderer whose twins he might be carrying now. It was like Matthew had forgiven him, and though Will knew that wasn’t true, knew they still had a long way to go before they reached that point, for now he could pretend, could feel like things were back to normal between them.

Matthew gently led Will down onto the bed, laying him down on his back and continuing to kiss him, hand moving down to palm him through the panties. Will gasped against Matthew’s lips, hips moving up towards his hands in an effort to get more, more contact, more friction, more anything, and Matthew smiled, kissing him again before those lips began to trail downward, downward, downward. He mouthed at Will’s arousal through the fabric of the underwear, lips teasing gently along his length, and Will tried not to move his hips, leaving them flat against the bed as he watched Matthew. If there was one thing Matthew was good at, it was teasing, and Will was already beginning to feel wet, lubrication beginning to leak from him at the contact from Matthew, light as it was, and Matthew could no doubt tell, Will able to see his pupils suddenly enlarge as he caught the scent of Will’s slick. He kissed and bit gently along the insides of Will’s thighs as he looked up at him, those green eyes made dark by his lust. Will always loved seeing Matthew like this, loved to see him wanting Will so desperately, always so eager to have him. Most of the time Matthew acted as if he was lucky to have Will, as if Will was some treasure that he’d been lucky enough to find and even luckier to actually get, treating Will’s love for him like it was some precious gift. Maybe that would change a bit now that Will had sinned against him, but for now Matthew was looking at him like that again, and Will couldn’t help the words that crossed his lips.

“I want you,” he said, voice slightly husky, sure his own eyes were dark with his want at the moment. He wanted Matthew so much right now, wanted to try and apologize with his body in the way that he couldn’t with his words, wanted to make it up to him with lips and teeth and tongue and his body, with everything at his disposal. And it seemed that Matthew wanted it too.

“Yes,” Matthew said simply, crawling back up the length of Will’s body to kiss him, tongue sliding into his mouth as they explored familiar territory for a minute, Will’s hand cupping the side of Matthew’s face as his thumb gently stroked along Matthew’s cheek. Will was relaxing from a tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding, even more so as Matthew’s hands began to slide along his sides, soothingly stroking his developing belly. He gently began to pull off the panties, pushing them aside to another area of the bed, out of the way, and his hand drifted down to lightly touch to Will’s entrance, circling carefully for a moment before he began to work a finger inside of him.

Will dropped his head back against the bed, looking up at the ceiling as Matthew moved with slow, gentle motions, taking a care with him that Will hadn’t expected considering his recent anger. But maybe this was just an opposite reaction, a way to make Will feel guilty for what he’d done by showing how much Matthew cared for him. How hurt he was by what had happened. Surely Will would feel guilty about that once they were done, but for right now he was focusing on Matthew as he added a second finger, pressing carefully into him and stretching him open slowly, though the advantage of Will’s gender meant that it was easy to get him ready, taking much less time than it would have otherwise. It was only a couple more minutes until he was ready, and then Matthew lined their hips up, and slowly slid into Will.

A soft groan made its way out of Will’s throat as Matthew fully seated himself in him, the Alpha making a soft noise, hands on Will’s hips as he just rested there for a moment, not moving. Will tipped his head back on the bed, exposing the pale, smooth column of his throat, and Matthew took advantage of the opportunity presented by gently biting down on his throat, sucking a mark that bloomed in crimson and carmine, a florid blush against his skin. Will gasped softly, and Matthew smiled against his skin, beginning to slowly roll his hips.

It was slow and sweet but passionate, both of them taking their time with each other, gently exploring already familiar territory and simply taking the time to enjoy one other. It felt like a reunion of sorts, like they were relearning each other after time apart. It wasn’t true at all, of course; they spent every day together, whatever time they had that they weren’t working, so there had been no separation, aside from maybe an emotional one upon Matthew learning the news about Hannibal. That must have been it. Matthew had distanced himself—for good reason—and now they were working their way back to one another, reuniting in their own way. It felt like forgiveness, but they both knew it wasn’t. It was a temporary peace, a truce between them and an agreement to forget about Will’s transgressions for the moment and enjoy their time together. And that was enough for Will.

Matthew finished first, with a groan and his face buried in the crook of Will’s neck, and Will was quick to follow, a soft noise working its way out of his throat as he spilled over Matthew’s hand and his own burgeoning belly. They lay still for a few minutes, simply listening to each other’s breathing and letting their heartbeats calm, before Matthew lifted his head, leaning down to kiss Will gently, tenderly. Will kissed him back with just as much care, hand lifting to thread through Matthew’s hair, tug him a bit closer to deepen the kiss. After a minute, Matthew pulled away, smiling at Will, and whispered, “We’re definitely keeping the underwear,” before getting up to grab a washcloth to clean them both up. Will sat up on the bed, smiling slightly to himself, and glanced over at the discarded panties. Yeah, okay, maybe dressing up like a traditional Omega wasn’t so bad, once in a while.

***

The days leading up to his meeting with Hannibal were passing by too quickly, and Will was starting to panic, withdraw into himself. He put up a good front for Matthew, but he had the feeling that his husband was beginning to see that something was going on, but didn’t know what. Maybe he attributed it to nerves about his developing pregnancy, or maybe worry over the fact that Hannibal hadn’t killed anyone in weeks and usually that would indicate that something big was coming. Well, it did. Just not the massive murders that everyone was expecting. His ‘something big’ was his meeting with Will, but no one knew that, and he was continuing to keep it a secret. The FBI couldn’t help him, he knew that already. If Hannibal even had a hint that someone else was there, that he was being monitored or surrounded or anything, then he’d instantly kill Abigail and possibly Will too. Though that was unlikely, considering how much his pregnancy was showing.

He was approaching twenty weeks now and the bulge of the twins growing inside of him was obvious. It had transformed into a smooth curve, that perfect round shape that pregnant men and women developed, and he could no longer hide it under dark or loose shirts. People had started congratulating him on it, though luckily so far he’d managed to avoid the requests to touch his stomach because he wasn’t really at that stage yet. But he wasn’t at a place where he could hide it, either, and already there had been discussions with the academy about his maternity leave and when he would need to take it, when his due date was and when he expected to be out from work. He’d told them everything they needed to know, set up a plan, and at the same time had started discussing details of the pregnancy and what he wanted for the birth with Matthew and the doctor they’d chosen.

It was hard not to be excited on some level about the twins arrival, about finally having the children that he’d wanted his whole life, ones that he could call his own and raise with Matthew. But at the same time, the meeting with Hannibal was pressing heavily on his mind, taking up the time that wasn’t spent thinking and planning and worrying about the twins. The date was fast-approaching and he found himself unable to sleep at night, curled up with Matthew but wide awake, eyes open as he stared at the ceiling, the wall, Matthew, whatever was within his line of sight.

There was no way out of this for him. No way it could end well, no way that he could get out of this unscathed. Someone was going to get hurt, and Will knew that Abigail was currently the most likely candidate. Hannibal wouldn’t hurt him once he found out about the pregnancy, but if Will made the wrong move, said something that set him off, there was no telling what he would do to Abigail. Especially considering he was already bound to be angry about what Will had hidden from him then and what he was trying to hide from him now. Not that he would be able to hide it from him, but he was certainly going to do his damnedest.

Matthew left for work early the day that Will was set to meet Hannibal, before Will was even supposed to be up, and pressed a soft kiss to Will’s forehead before he headed downstairs. As soon as the front door shut, though, Will’s eyes flicked open, and he got up, moving to one of the windows to watch as Matthew walked to his car, driving off a minute later. Will quickly moved away from the window, stripping out of his clothes and getting dressed, putting on the loosest of his maternity of his shirts, a black t-shirt a size too big. He looked at himself in the mirror for a minute, noting that from the front, the illusion somewhat worked, and it could be mistaken for extra weight gained, but as soon as he turned to the side, the effect was ruined and his secret was obvious. He sighed, smoothing a hand over his stomach, the two lives growing inside of him that he was now more worried about than he’d ever been before. It’d have to do. He didn’t have any other choice in this.

He moved downstairs, grabbing the keys to the other car and pulling on a jacket despite how warm it was now, April having dissolved into May. Hopefully it’d distract more from his stomach, though it might seem slightly odd. Maybe Hannibal would be too preoccupied with everything else to notice. That was the hope at least.

Finally, he took one last look around the house, petting a few of the dogs that were wagging their tails excitedly, as if expecting to go outside with him. But he made sure to shut them in as he left, heading to the car to leave. To go to Hannibal.

 

 


	10. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will meets up with Hannibal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm basically trying to get as many chapters of this done as I can before I start working on my commission, so here, have this one! The Big Reveal, as I like to call it.

Halfway to Louisiana, Will stopped in a diner off of the highway, sitting in the plastic booth with a decaf coffee and a full plate of food that he didn’t feel like eating in the slightest. It wasn’t the first time that he’d stopped, his pregnancy making it so he had to pee an inordinate amount, but it was the first time he’d actually stopped and sat down to have a meal, his stomach having been too sick earlier in the day for him to eat or drink much more than the caffeinated tea that he’d allowed himself, figuring it was better for him to be alert and awake, considering he’d left at 3:30 am, about a half hour after Matthew left for work. He expected to be in Louisiana around 8 pm, the drive there taking about fifteen-sixteen hours, plus breaks. Like the one that he was taking now, simply staring into his coffee cup as he contemplated his fate.

“How far along are you?”

He looked up, finding the certainly well-meaning waitress who’d delivered his food earlier smiling at him. She was a slightly older woman, probably with kids of her own, and she nodded at his stomach, the burgeoning growth that he was desperately wishing he could hide better. Because if she noticed it so easily, Hannibal was bound to. Though she had seen him from the side while he was sitting, and it looked alright from the front…fuck, who was he kidding? He was completely and totally fucked with this. Always had been.

“Um. Twenty weeks,” he answered, and her smile seemed to get even perkier if that was possible. He was feeling somewhat resentful of her good humor, actually, feeling like the whole world should have been as stressed out as he was at the moment. They should have realized that the fate of the world was in his hands at the moment, everything depending on how things went with Hannibal in this meeting. If things went south, then everyone would be at risk for Hannibal’s wrath, and Abigail would be the first to go, and who knew what he’d do to Will. Probably nothing once he saw the pregnancy. The goddamn pregnancy.

“That’s wonderful! Do you know the gender yet?”

“Ah, it’s actually twins,” Will said, eyes on her name tag rather than her eyes before they darted to her throat. Apparently her name was Sheila. “And no, I don’t know the sex yet.”

“Twins, you must be blessed! Aw, I did the same thing. Waited until they were born. Two boys and a girl,” she said, and then frowned slightly. “But you’re out here all by yourself?”

He swallowed, throat dry, and returned his eyes to his coffee cup. “Their father is in another state right now. I’m going to see him.”

“Ahh, a family reunion, how nice.”

He nodded slowly, and she patted his shoulder in a friendly gesture that he wanted to shy away from. “Well, call me if you need anything else. Congratulations,” she said, and went to tend to another customer, and he let out a slow exhale, turning his coffee cup in his hands.

He’d have to hit the road again soon, but he had to force himself to eat something first. Not for himself, but rather for the twins in his belly, the two genderless children that he had to take care of before they came into this world. It didn’t matter who their father was, he was their mother and he needed to take care of them no matter what. He didn’t care if it was Hannibal or Matthew at this point, though he was already pretty sure that he knew the answer to that question for certain. He just cared that they were his.

So he finished the whole meal, forcing himself through most of it, though eventually his stomach got over its sickness and he was genuinely hungry. His bill paid, he headed back out to the car for the long drive that he still had ahead of him, checking the time as he started up the car and pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road that would lead him back to the highway. Matthew would be getting home soon. Home to an empty house and a note from Will on the table, explaining that he’d gone to meet Hannibal because he was holding Abigail hostage. Matthew would take it to the FBI, but by the time that they figured out where he’d gone, he was sure that Hannibal would have already taken him somewhere else, whether by force or not. He was going to be alone in this, he’d known that going in. He just hoped that nothing happened to Abigail. That was the important part. That and the twins.

And this way, Matthew would be safe from it. Matthew would be free, out of the danger of Hannibal deciding to take some sort of twisted jealousy out on him and kill him simply for being married to Will. Will had found himself twisting and playing with his wedding ring all day, lost in the shine of the gold band. Like he was looking at the goddamn One Ring or something. No, he was just thinking about his marriage, about the wonderful man that he’d married and everything that he was leaving behind by doing this, every happy memory that was about to be erased. Or at least boxed up and shoved to the back of his mind so he could focus on Hannibal, on the meeting with him and being calm and rational during it. Though he wasn’t sure how well that would go, quite honestly.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fucking fuck—he slammed his hands against the wheel a few times, jerking back and forth in his seat as he got a tiny bit, just a miniscule portion of his frustration out. Frustration with himself, frustration with Hannibal, did it really matter anymore? He slumped back in his seat, taking a deep breath as he tried to stay calm, focus on driving. Focus on anything other than what he was doing, what he was actually going through with. God, how could he do this? How could he really, honestly do this? Endanger himself and his children, just to give in to a psychopath’s demands so no one else would get hurt?

But he couldn’t lose Abigail. He couldn’t let any harm come to her, and he was sure that Hannibal was willing to cause her harm, despite knowing the truth about her. So he had to. He had to go to Louisiana, back to his childhood home, back to where Hannibal would be waiting with a weapon and Abigail. Probably a knife, he preferred to get up close and personal with his victims. As Will had seen firsthand, and was likely to see again. But maybe if he did what Hannibal asked, it would stop. Maybe the killing would stop, maybe he could save the world from the terror that was Hannibal Lecter. Or maybe he was fucked. Either way, he was going to find out, and soon. It was several more hours before he saw the exit sign, evening creeping in and covering the sky’s eyes with dark fingers. Soon enough, he’d be there.

***

He got there right around the time he’d predicted, everything having already settled into a quiet May evening. He could hear frogs croaking in the distance, mating calls that brought him back to his childhood, to the boy that’d once been happy in his home, missing his mother and oblivious to the fact that she’d never return. The boy that hadn’t yet met Hannibal Lecter, hadn’t yet been revealed as an Omega, hadn’t yet hit his first heat. Hadn’t yet lost his father, either.

But there was no sense dwelling in the past, he thought as he approached the small house, shutting the car door behind himself, the noise seeming loud in the quiet spring air. Hannibal had probably heard him pull up anyway, there wasn’t really a point in trying to be stealthy. They’d both known that he was going to show up, because he really hadn’t had a choice in the matter, Hannibal making sure that it was that way. The bastard. But, as he reminded himself, the bastard who was most likely the father of his children, which brought with it just about the worst feeling in the world. Why couldn’t they just be Matthew’s? Why couldn’t it be his children growing inside of Will? Of course, he wasn’t sure, not without a paternity test, but in his own mind, he was almost positive. Other explanations just didn’t make sense.

He looked up at the house as he approached, going to the door and finding it unlocked. He stood there for a moment, simply breathing, trying to calm his now racing heart down, before turning the knob, and entering the house. It was dead silent, completely still, and empty. Well, he had seen a For Sale sign out in front. It was just strange to see it like this, with fresh paint that didn’t match the memories from his child, completely devoid of the homey feeling that it had when full of furniture. He tried not to dwell on it, peeking into the living, to the right, before he headed into the kitchen, the dining room to his immediate left, the kitchen beyond it, and stopped when he reached the edge where the wood met the tile of the kitchen floor. He didn’t have to go any further.

Hannibal was at the other end of the kitchen, and the first thing Will noticed was that he had a knife in his hands, a curved linoleum one, if he was seeing it right. The second thing he noticed was that Abigail appeared unharmed, though she was shaking like a leaf and trying not to cry, tear tracks already staining her cheeks. Hannibal looked relaxed, at ease, leaning against the counter next to where Abigail stood, not tied up or anything, just kept still by the threat of Hannibal next to her, though she looked like she was liable to fly at any moment. Her eyes had shown relief when she saw Will, and he wondered how much she knew about him, about the situation. After all, they’d only seen each other when she was a baby. She wouldn’t remember it at all, but Will remembered it vividly. After all, mothers always remembered giving birth to their children.

“Hello, Will,” Hannibal said smoothly, calmly, and Will gave a nod in return, eyes fixed on Abigail.

“Hannibal,” he said, his voice not nearly as smooth as Hannibal’s was. But that was to be expected when his child was in danger, under the threat of Hannibal’s knife, and he couldn’t help. Didn’t know what to do, felt absolutely useless in this situation, because he truly was. He was just a pregnant Omega, what could he do? With FBI training, yes, but he hadn’t brought a weapon with him. Hadn’t done anything to jeopardize Abigail’s safety, because he’d never be able to forgive himself if she was hurt somehow.

“How could you not tell me, Will?” Hannibal asked, getting right to the point, a cold fury in his voice, and Will finally broke his gaze with Abigail to look at him.

“What was I supposed to do, Hannibal? You were in jail. For murdering quite literally dozens of people, and you expect me to have just shown up and said, oh by the way, you got me pregnant and I had the baby but gave her up for adoption?” he asked, and there was a soft noise from Abigail, not quite a sob, but he kept his eyes on Hannibal. “I was eighteen and terrified out of my mind because I’d just had a baby with the man who turned out to be a psychopathic murderer. I wasn’t fit to raise a child by myself, and my father didn’t want anything to do with the situation as a whole, so I gave her up for adoption.”

“You gave her to another psychopathic murderer,” Hannibal pointed out, and Will sighed, shaking his head.

“I didn’t know what Garrett Jacob Hobbes was. No one knew what he was. At the time, he was a godsend because he took a child that I couldn’t care for off of my hands. They offered to let me be a part of her life, but what was I going to do? Tell her that her real father was in prison for being a serial killer and I’d fucked him without knowing what he was?”

Hannibal was looking at him with his most predatory gaze, maroon eyes dark, and Will’s chest was tight with a barely contained panic as Hannibal turned the knife that he had in his hand. “You should have told me, Will. You should have let me know that I had a daughter.”

“You didn’t deserve to have one,” Will instantly said, tone biting, though he regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, Hannibal’s hand having abruptly stopped turning the knife, his grip on it tightening a bit.

Abigail’s eyes were trained on his stomach, Will found as he glanced at her to make sure that she was still alright. Her eyes were wide as she looked back up at his face, and he realized that she knew, oh god, she knew. Hannibal was only distracted from it by his anger, but it was only a matter of time before he noticed, and there was a silent communication between them, causing her to close her mouth instantly. Will’s eyes returned to Hannibal only to find him watching the silent exchange, and his heart sank as Hannibal’s eyes seemed to sharpen, honing in on Abigail.

“Abigail,” he said softly, in a tone like he was actually talking to his daughter. Just a lovely father-daughter chat, no stress or pressure in the situation. No knife in Hannibal’s hand, no threat hanging over both her and Will, and Will felt his mouth grow dry as Hannibal’s eyes didn’t waver from their daughter. “Abigail…”

“I’m pregnant.”

Hannibal’s eyes darted back to Will at those words from him, and, reluctantly, Will turned to the side, parting his jacket and lifting up his shirt so that Hannibal could see the full, pregnant curve of his stomach. The look in Hannibal’s eyes changed distinctly, and Will felt his heart beating fast in his chest, too much stress, too much adrenaline, it couldn’t be healthy for the babies. But Hannibal was looking at him like he was the only person in the world, like everything else had faded away and it was just the two of them left. Them and the babies. There was so much love and tenderness in his expression that it was actually make Will feel sick, and—oh.

He put a hand on his stomach, looking down at it in confusion, brow furrowed, and Hannibal demanded, “What is it?”

“The…the babies just kicked,” Will said, sounding a little dazed by it, and Hannibal took a step towards him, looking like he was in a trance.

“Babies. Plural,” he said, a question in his voice, and Will nodded, hating that Hannibal knew, that he was confirming this.

“Twins,” he answered, and Hannibal’s eyes seemed to soften even more, if that was even possible. He began to approach, but Will instantly took a step back, shaking his head.

“You’re not approaching me with that thing in your hand,” he said, indicating the linoleum knife. “You’re not putting the babies at risk.”

“Our babies,” Hannibal corrected, and Will felt his throat tighten.

He stared resolutely back at Hannibal, noting that the other man hadn’t put the knife down yet. “I don’t know who the father is,” he said, but Hannibal’s smile told him that Hannibal knew that he was already sure. Well. Mostly sure. “But if it is you,” he said, inhaling shakily, “are you really going to put your children at risk?”

God, he hated every poisoned word that came out of his mouth, each one bitter on his tongue, because he didn’t want to have this relationship with Hannibal, didn’t want to see him as the father of his children. He didn’t want to have to give him honeyed words and false affection to get him to put down the knife, step away from Abigail, but each step that he took away from her was a step closer to her freedom, to it just being Hannibal and Will here. And now Will was positive Hannibal wouldn’t hurt him.

But he wasn’t putting the knife down, had stopped moving, actually, and Will was getting a bit desperate, needing him to move just a little bit closer so that Abigail could go free. That way, at least one of them could get out of this alive and whole. But instead of moving towards Will, putting the knife down, he was taking a step back, back, back, until he was even with Abigail, and beckoned her closer, holding out a hand to her.

“Hannibal…” Will started, unsure of where that sentence was even going, just knowing that there was warning in the name, a promise he wasn’t even sure he could follow through with. One that Hannibal wasn’t heeding, his eyes on Will even as Abigail stepped towards him. He took her hand, gently guiding her in front of him, and Will could read Hannibal’s intent in his eyes alone.

“No, please, please Hannibal, no,” he said quickly, making a move towards them, but stopped when he saw the warning in Hannibal’s eyes. Abigail’s breath was hiccupping in her chest, sobs barely held in as she stood in front of Hannibal, smart enough to know what was going to happen next, at least, if Will couldn’t prevent it. “Hannibal, please,” he repeated, a note of desperation in his tone, a willingness to do something, anything to stop this from happening, because god, he was already going to lose Matthew, he couldn’t lose Abigail too, and could Hannibal really do this? Could he really hurt his own daughter? The time and distance between them, the fact that he hadn’t known about her until recently, none of it mattered. What mattered was that she was his own flesh and blood, his child, his daughter, god, he couldn’t kill her, she was Will’s daughter too and he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost her. Despite not having been in her life—for her own good, though—he was still attached to her, still cared about her safety and security, and Hannibal had known that when he took her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken her at all. This was a punishment meant specifically for Will, and they both knew it.

Hannibal didn’t answer Will’s pleas, simply looking at him expectantly with dark eyes, and Will knew what he was asking for but god, he didn’t want to give it to him. The hand with the knife was starting to rise, however, and he knew that if he didn’t…god, but could he really commit himself to that? To that kind of life, the life that his twins would share as well? He didn’t want to condemn them to a life lived on the run, with a psychopathic murderer for a father who was liable to kill any member of this fucked up family if he so much as felt like it. But he really didn’t have another choice, not right now, not if he wanted to protect Abigail, and oh god, he did. If he couldn’t even protect her, how could he expect to look after the twins?

“Okay, okay!” he called out as Hannibal’s hand was up at the level with Abigail’s throat, the knife raised, and Hannibal stopped moving, the only sound in the kitchen the sound of Abigail’s sniffles as she tried to keep her sobs in to herself. Will sighed heavily, looking down at the ground, staring at the line that marked the change between wood and tile for a minute before hesitantly stepping over it, towards Hannibal. He walked a few steps forward, still out of the range of the knife but much closer to Hannibal than he’d been before, and looked at him again.

“I’ll go with you.”


End file.
